Adult Education
by Reigen Doki
Summary: Academy AU. They wanted Jim to grow up and take on real responsibility, too bad no one in the school was prepared for it. When Jim starts teaching a class, he throws the entire Academy into chaos. Can Spock help Jim with his problems and help the school? Will Jim even give this stranger the time of day? See how Jim matures or if he crashes and burns and how the school handles it.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't own the rights to Star Trek. Or Micho Kaku and his book Physics of the Impossible. Read it. It's epic.**

**I got a request to do this...So yeah. An academy AU fic. Definitely a tradition in that. As this is really my first of the kind, feel free to gouge it relentlessly if it isn't interesting or divergent enough or whatever.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

James T. Kirk was a trouble maker. Everyone knew that. Most conversations that were going to include discussions of him started with those six words. Seven if you counted his middle initial as a word, but who was?

The problem with James T. Kirk being a trouble maker was that he was also a genius. Insufferable, by many standards, but a genius who somehow managed to bed most everyone he made an attempt to. He was also the son of a hero. Specifically, the first hero the federation had had in a very long time. He was also the only genius-level repeat offender in the Midwest.

One man had dragged him out of that downward spiral. Christopher Pike. Pike picked him up off the bar room floor he found him on, dusted him off, and slapped a Starfleet Academy uniform on him.

That said, James T. Kirk was a trouble maker. He was also a genius, bored out of his genius mind. With that came his tendency to rely on things other than schoolwork for entertainment. Things such as earning a reputation as the most beddable man in Starfleet. Things such as ruining research, simulations, and general miscellaneous activities and items the staff liked to have in one piece, specifically the original piece they came in. It was…a problem, to put it mildly.

Half the teachers on campus clamored for his immediate expulsion. The other half insisted he would thrive under more pressure and began devising ways to make his education more torture then beneficial, perhaps in the misguided attempt to get him to quit.

Neither group was making headway with the problem known as James T. Kirk.

It was about to be the boy's third year, one he was scheduled to graduate in. And no one was looking forward to the day this immature, self-centered, insufferable womanizer was released on Starfleet. There were talks of dishonorable discharge as soon as he made it from the academy, just so he wouldn't be allowed near a ship. Even Pike had trouble denying the damage he could do.

He was, however, known for being the only man who could pull Kirk along by the ears, make him sit down and shut up, and get something remotely productive out of him. So all eyes fell to him after Kirk's latest stunt as they brainstormed how to make an upstanding citizen of him.

They were, after all, tired of the gelatin, explosions, and insufferable sporks.

So it was Pike who, upon the realization that it was only going to get worse during the summer break before classes resumed, called Kirk into his offices. And it was Pike who sat staring down the insufferable genius as he lounged in the chair provided to him, chewing obscenely on a plastic spork.

"Stop that." Pike nearly snapped, frustrated by the distinct sound.

"Stop what?"

"For one, stop messing with the replicators." Pike didn't buy his surprised, innocent look. "And for another, stop chewing on that. I know you were raised in a barn, but you weren't one of the cows."

Kirk shrugged, tossing the mutilated piece of plastic on Pike's desk. "Eventually everyone will come to realize how very awesome sporks are."

"They're useless."

"Not for Jell-o purposes."

And that explain much of the last prank.

"I didn't ask you in here to talk about sporks." Pike sighed, shaking his head at how he managed to be sucked into a distraction again.

"You didn't?" Kirk's voice came out a bit too fast, a bit too surprised.

"No…I didn't." Pike had his suspicious about the mild concern in his eyes.

Either he was worried, because he hadn't done anything else and was expecting bad news, or he was worried they found out about another of his plans. Unfortunately, it was generally impossible to tell just by staring at him, and asking would do nothing.

"You see, the people in charge of your education feel you're something of a bad influence on the other students." Pike gauged his reaction, watching for anything.

Kirk didn't disappoint, scrunching his face up in consternation. "I haven't heard anything about anyone else taking my kind of…liberties."

"Liberties." Pike repeated dryly. "Not at current, no. But they have decided it must stop, before anyone else gets the idea that it's alright."

"Or what?" Kirk asked innocently, charming grin in place.

"Or you'll be made an example of." Pike's voice was low, ominous, straightening Kirk in his seat. "There's been talk of expulsion, dishonorable discharge, bringing up charges against you…"

Kirk went very pale and very still, staring mutely at Pike. He knew he was serious. And Pike knew that, no matter how much trouble he causes, Kirk had come to love Starfleet in his own, twisted way. They stayed like that, locked in a silent moment of negotiation, as first one, and then another minute pass by. Finally, Kirk eased back against his seat, carefully locking his fingers together and resting his hands on his knee. Pike acknowledged this as a sign that he was willing to listen by starting to speak.

"Just stopping and apologizing isn't going to be enough at this juncture." Pike muttered, as if he were some councilor helping a student plan out their course load. "You need to show them that you are a mature individual, ready to take on the responsibilities you're asking for in the command track."

"How?" Jim asked patiently, his voice showing no trace of the strain he was feeling.

Pike wondered if he even was feeling strain. He's a genius. Yes, being removed from Starfleet would be a loss to him, but there were so many other places willing to accept him. He could go to any college to complete his education, work in nearly any engineering firm, and any computer firm. He wanted Starfleet, yes, but when it came down to it, Pike wasn't sure he would want it enough.

"I have a proposal for you." Pike hesitated, until Kirk nodded for him to continue. "I would like you to take on the responsibility of teaching a course at the academy."

"I'm sorry, what?" Kirk's brow knit together, blue eyes somehow wide under the bunched eyebrows.

"I would like you to teach a class." Pike repeated carefully, patiently. "It would demonstrate your skills at directing those under you, and your responsibility to your duties."

"I'm not a professor…"

"No. You aren't. You'd only be teaching one class. I already have a professor that would like to hand one of their lectures over to you to have more free time." Pike saw the momentary distaste in his eyes, but kept going. "You wouldn't have to wear the professor's uniform, but you would be free to do so. It's a relatively easy lecture, for you."

Kirk bit his lip, and Pike knew he had him. "What class is it?"

"Terraforming and ecology."

The young blond scowled. "I could teach that in my sleep."

"It's a fourth year class."

"Which I took and passed with flying colors my first semester."

"Then you shouldn't have any problems." Pike gave him a smug smile when Kirk scoffed.

"And doing this will get me off the shit list with the other professors and the admirals?" Kirk had his suspicions, as he should.

"Most likely."

"Most likely? So it isn't guaranteed?"

"No, but it is the most likely option to get you 'off the shit list'. Take the offer Kirk. Teach the class and don't play any pranks or sleep with your professors' wives or daughters."

Kirk managed to look affronted. "I never slept with anyone's wives. I don't even know how that rumor got started."

"I'm sure." Pike rolled his eyes, not really concerned with the minutia. "Will you do it?"

"Fine. One class. Work it into my schedule." Kirk flapped his hand at him dismissively.

"I will." Pike agreed, shaking his head lightly. "Will you be wanting an instructor's uniform?"

"They'd let me have one?" Kirk asked suspiciously, fixing him with a look to match.

"If you want." Pike agreed. "They'd prefer if you only wear it while teaching, but it'll be your uniform. Technically, even if you are a student teacher, you're supposed to wear it."

"I'll take it, but I'm not guaranteeing I'll wear it."

"Well alright." Pike smirked. "And remember, you have to follow the rules for the staff here now."

Kirk grimaced, flashing an unhappy look at him. "Do you have any idea how much this is going to crimp my style?"

"Who even say's that anymore?"

"I'm leaving now. Let me know when this torture session is set for and what the general teaching schedule is going to be." Kirk stood, straightening his shirt out of habit. "I guess I have to prepare some lectures for the class."

"I'm sure you'll do fine. The class will be open for registration in a week." Pike stood as well, offering a condescending smile. "I'm sure your classmates will be clamoring to take a class with you as the instructor."

Kirk nodded as he left, mulling the thought over. These were his classmates, his peers, he was going to be teaching. Sure, he had to be all professorly, but he could be the most liked professor on campus. And terraforming was a subject he really got into. This would be great, kind of like the study sessions he had with some of his friends, only he would be providing and helping them through entirely new, to them, material. This could go well.

After all, his fellow students respected and admired him.

… .. . .. …

Jim gritted his teeth, picking up the pace. People were whispering again.

"There's Kirk, did you hear he's teaching a class?"

"Yeah, bet it's going to be super easy."

"Do you think he'll give good grades to anyone who sleeps with him?"

"Bet he isn't even going to give tests or homework."

"Filled up the first two days of being open."

"Wish I could get in."

"Easy, like him."

He was sick and tired of hearing these talks about him. They just kept talking, like he couldn't hear their obnoxiously loud conversations. And maybe that was the point. Maybe they wanted him to know how little they actually thought of him. And they did. They thought he was irresponsible, unreliable, worthless. Just like the professors. And they thought they could just get away with anything on his watch.

It wasn't happening. Setting his jaw firmly, he slowed his pace to a dangerous swagger. He wasn't going to let this go on. He was going to prove to them that this would be the hardest course they ever took, from 'Piloting in Asteroid Belts' with Professor Mande to 'Physics of Improbability in Mechanics' with Professor Kaku. He was going to make them work their asses off for their grades and no one, quite literally no one, will be able to say he's some easy grade.

That said, classes started in a month. He needed to seriously review and re-do his lectures to make them worthy of the title 'hardest course in the history of Starfleet'. And he needed to memorize and finish most of the work for his other classes so he would be free to torture his fellow cadets. That was going to take the most time.

Leonard McCoy, his unwilling roommate, glanced up at him as he stalked into their dorm. Though they had hit it off when they first met, McCoy was slowly beginning to realize just how frustrating living with a Kirk could be. And by slowly, it's meant that it took him one week to start throwing things. Somehow, they survived two years of each other.

"What have you got there, Jim?"

Said Jim threw a scowl over his shoulder. "Required reading for my lecture."

"Aw Christ. I'm glad I don't need that course." McCoy whistled at the enormous pile of data chips. "How many books and journals is that?"

"Thirty-two."

"Thirty-two! That's way too much for one semester!" McCoy put aside his PADD, fixing him with a horrified look.

"This is all due before the midterm." Jim sat down at his desk, already organizing the material.

"The- Oh lord, Jim are you trying to fail everyone?" McCoy shook his head, shocked. "What are you doing, exactly, with all that?"

"I won't fail everyone. It's a few texts a night. And it isn't like I'm asking them to write a report on it, just know it for discussion." Jim scowled, trying to decide the order he wanted the material read in. "Besides, that one linguistics professor made his students read one hundred short stories and such _and_ translate them in one semester."

"That's different. It's a linguistics class. And besides, he was a full time professor, with office hours and everything."

"That's why I cut the number down. Do you think a couple research projects would be too much or should I throw them in? I know I want the final project to be a terraforming plan that could actually be viable, but should I have them do little projects first to help them figure it out, or make them do extra research all at once to get it?"

"You've lost your mind." McCoy threw a hand over his face, sighing. "You've gone flat crazy with power."

"I have not. I just don't want anyone thinking this is going to be some easy A, no-work class."

"Oh trust me, no one will think that." McCoy drawled, fixing an unimpressed look at the back of Kirk's head.

"Okay," Jim said firmly, mostly to himself, "I think I'm done with this for right now. I'm going to get started on the work for my other classes. Can't be doing homework instead of grading."

"You know..." McCoy snorted, returning his attention to his PADD. "Just because a few students think it'll be easy doesn't mean they all do. I'm sure several of the people who signed up for the class actually expect you to be teaching the exact same thing as the other lecture. They probably think you'll get the lecture material and assignments from who ever that professor you're taking over for is."

"If I do that I'll just prove that I can't do anything." Jim scowled, as he'd been doing quite a bit lately.

"Sure, but consider just making it an average class." McCoy shrugged. "See how the first class goes, what they actually think. Then decide what you're going to do."

"Sure." Kirk sequestered himself with a PADD at his desk, ready to do school work. "But I still have to make plans for the tough course load. Now shut up, I'm trying to study."

"Since when did you study?"

"I study all the time."

"Reciting physics equations to the girl with 'talk nerdy to me' underwear isn't studying."

"Helped me remember the equations, didn't it?"

"…Just study."

All jokes aside, Jim was exceptional at his schoolwork. He had a knack for retaining information and translating it into real world situations. That was what made his work go so quickly, frustrating his teachers with near perfection and resigning him to destructive idleness. If McCoy was apprehensive about him working ahead to give himself more free time…well, that wasn't his problem. He wasn't the one who had gotten it in a Kirk's head to devote himself to educating others.

He was really wondering how well thought out that was.

… .. . .. …

Jim scowled down at the list in front of him, trying to decide what to do with it. A very temping option was to chuck it back at Pike. He probably wouldn't be pleased with him breaking a PADD though. Another option was to set it down and pretend he never saw it. Somehow, that seemed useless. In the end, he simply glared at it, reading and rereading the names printed there.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Something wrong?"

"You expect me to teach _these_ people?"

"I don't see the problem."

"With some of them won't be a big deal, sure. But Gaila's just taking the class in the hopes that I'll take up role-playing with her since she can't get a real professor to sleep with her." Kirk ignored the eyebrow raise he got for that. "Giotto is taking it in the hopes he'll get to beat me up eventually. Lester is taking it because she's crazy and stalking me. And Uhura's probably taking it in the hope of catching me doing something I shouldn't so she can get me booted out of here faster than Warp ten."

"I highly doubt that."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

Kirk growled, leaning back in his chair. Pike had called him into his office to give him the official list of students for his class which was going to start in a week. He suspected that it was timed precisely so he couldn't voice his objections. No matter how much he insisted the student list was going to be a problem, he had to work with it.

The problem was, most of these students had either seen him naked, or had him steal their girlfriend. No matter how he looked at it, he saw some kind of confrontation coming to a head in the class. He couldn't please everybody. And in not doing so, he was going to piss everyone off.

He took a deep, clearing breath, and briefly wondered why anyone advised those things since it just made him want to scream in frustration with all this new found lung capacity. Pushing the air forcefully out of his nose, because he didn't trust himself to open his mouth without said aforementioned scream, he tried to focus on the probabilities. He wanted to convince himself he was exaggerating. He wanted to roll his eyes and say everything would be fine.

But his gut insisted otherwise. And he had long learned that if his gut told him disaster was coming, it was damn well coming. At current, his gut was blaring foghorns and flashing argon signs (because apparently his gut liked the color purple) in the most obvious way that this was going to go down in a ball of flames. So, trusting his gut, he was ready for this to be a natural disaster.

"Watch it." Kirk warned him. "You'll see exactly what I mean."

"You're being paranoid." The elder man sighed, shaking his head. "You'll find that it isn't nearly as horrible as you seem to think it is and who knows, you may even enjoy yourself."

"I seriously doubt that." Kirk tried, through sheer force of will, to convey his utter skepticism through his impressive look of disbelief and cynicism, succeeding only in showing how little faith he had in the system and his (now) fellow professors.

"Don't worry so much Kirk. There are people here you can come to if you need help. Believe it or not, a lot of first time professors need help learning how to deal with the kind of people you get here in Starfleet Academy. A lot of veterans that have never taught here need it."

"You honestly think the other professors will help me?" Kirk snorted in derisive amusement.

"None of them want to see you fail at the expense of your fellow students." Pike reminded drolly. "At the very least, they're expecting you to come crying to them and giving up. If they don't even expect you to keep the class for more than a month, there's no reason not to help you if you need it."

Jim straightened in his seat, seething internally. They doubted him. They all doubted him. Everyone kept thinking he couldn't do it. Everyone just wanted to see him fail.

With a push, he stood up, hands slapping down on the desktop with quite a crack. Pike jerked back, brow knitting together in surprise. He opened his mouth to scold Kirk, but froze. Kirk's eyes were electric, a cold, sharp blue, hard. Outwardly, nothing else was different, with the possible exception of the stiffness in his movements. But his eyes shone clearly with the well contained defiance.

Pike would have worried, as Kirk left his office, had he ever seen that look in his eyes before. It was the look of a man that could do anything, and would have no regrets about it once it was done. But there was a direction there, just then, that spoke of the kind of determination one couldn't fake. There was a purpose. Kirk was going to prove himself. Pike could see that so very clearly. That look…

That look was the look of a man who was staring down a battle he knew he couldn't win, but was going to anyway.

… .. . .. …

Jim took a deep breath, just before remembering that that only made him more anxious. So he took two shorter, shallower breaths and splashed cold water on his face. The bathrooms in the dorms were fairly cramped, and if he took a step back, the sonic shower would take a bite out of his calves. He leaned bodily on the little counter, scattering a few of his and McCoy's things. Water was dripping onto his red collar, something that was bound to be absolutely infuriating in his first class as the damp material chafed at his skin.

All he could do was poke gingerly at the pale purple bags under his eyes, not really noticeable unless you were up close looking at him. He'd been up all night, worrying over his first day teaching. It was smack dab in the middle of his morning, right after his first class and right before his third class, leaving no time to breathe. He figured he wasn't going to get a chance to change, so he might as well go for low-profile his first day and wear red.

And that was an endearingly ironic statement.

It wasn't like his students didn't all know he was a student too. The least he could do was make himself less of a target in his other classes. Most of his other courses were on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with a frustrating number of labs on Friday, so he was free for the entire day after his third class on Mondays and Wednesdays. Only two classes that would see him in black besides the one he was taking. That and the entire school he had to walk past.

Besides, black would only accentuate the dark circles he was stressing over. He'd rather look like a lobster, if a rather fetching one, then a walking skeleton.

Not that he had a problem with any alien species that vaguely resembled lobsters or skeletons in any way, of course. That was cool. Though, presuming he found any that actually met that description, he wondered just what kind of reaction they would have to the school colors. It wasn't like every alien looked at them and went 'Oh, red? Yeah, that's a normal color where I come from, not creepy at all' or something like that.

He splashed water on his face again, jarring himself from his completely unproductive thoughts.

He could do this. Today was just cover material. He literally had to go over the course expectations and walk them through the same bull they'd been hearing since their first class and he'd be done. It was almost foolproof. He couldn't actually manage to screw this up when he was trying to do it right. He didn't have so much faith as to say he couldn't screw it up if he did nothing, let alone if he tried, but he figured actively trying to get it right had to count for something.

For good measure, he swiveled on his heel and dry heaved into the toilet for a good three minutes before McCoy started pounding on the door in a rage.

"Damn it Jim! Open this door." McCoy hollered. "You're making yourself sick."

"I'm fine, Bones." Jim groaned, ordering the door open. "Swear. Haven't even eaten yet, so I've got nothing."

"That's hardly reassuring." McCoy huffed, pressing the back of his hand to Jim's forehead. "You don't feel like you have a temperature."

"God, Bones, I'm fine." Jim swatted his hand away, maneuvering himself around him to get back into the dorm room. "You are such a mother hen."

"Well excuse me for giving a damn about your ass. Someone has to."

"Plenty of people give a damn about my ass." Jim flashed a charming smile.

"Yeah, but they care how good it looks in a pair of jeans. I give a damn about how healthy it is." McCoy folded his arms across his chest, leaning on the door frame.

Jim pulled a face, scrunching his nose up in dismay. "This conversation is so weird. Can we just agree that you're a mother hen, I have a hot ass, and I'm fine?"

McCoy looked ready to protest, but simply glanced at the clock. "Go eat. You have class in thirty."

"Yes mommy."

"Jim." McCoy's voice took a cold, warning tone.

"Sorry." Jim mumbled. "I'm'a go get an apple now so leave me alone for the rest of the day."

"That doesn't actually work!" McCoy howled after him in complaint.

Down the hall, out of sight of his dorm, Jim sagged against the wall. A few passing students gave him curious glances. Jim immediately straightened himself. He was in public. He couldn't let anyone see him looking less than his best and thinking he wasn't up to the job.

As far as first days for a semester go, this was a fairly decent one. Sun shone down across the campus, a smattering of clouds keeping it from being too bright. A stiff breeze drove across the grounds, gently whipping skirts around legs and cooling students under the enormous weight of their jackets. Jim took a deep breath, relishing the mixed scents of fresh cut grass and saltwater. It was pungent and sweet, settling on the back of his tongue in an almost bitter mix of scents.

Not as good as fertilizer and growing things for calming him, but still wonderful. Jim grinned, biting into his apple and ignoring the way the juice sprayed across his face. It was hard not to grin with everyone in their summer uniforms. Girls in pretty red skirts rushed across the grass, a controlled step below running to make it to their classes.

Kirk sauntered along naturally, having already memorized the exact time between every point on campus at his current speed. He was almost never late unless he wanted to be.

That said, he knew he was going to have to walk quickly from his first class to his lecture. The professor had a bad habit of going over the time and they were almost on the opposite sides of campus. Being late to your own class would just look bad. Fortunately it was the first day and, if there was one thing this professor was known for more than running long in his lectures, it was that he never used his whole first day, rather despising it. Jim wondered if he could actually get away with something like that or if everyone would think it was unprofessional for a new teacher like him.

If there was one thing that was disturbing Jim, it was the utter space around him. No one was coming over as he walked, no one saying hello, no one waving. They just watched from a distance, like they weren't sure what to do. Jim wasn't sure what to do. It wasn't like it had fully sunken in yet, the fact that he was straddling a razor fine line between teacher and student with a lot hanging over it.

Jim polished off his apple as he headed into his first class, trying not to over think something as stupidly simple as teaching people a lesson.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**A depressingly Spock-less chapter, sorry. He will be in the next one. As will Jim's first attempt at teaching.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Huzaa. There is chapter here. It occurs to me I don't really have a set update schedule, but I assure you it won't be a month between updates ever on this one.**

**And I don't own Star Trek.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

Getting out early did two things for Kirk. It allowed him to get to his class early and situate himself in a proper, professorly manner. It also allowed him to stare at the classroom door in mute horror, his stomach doing barrel rolls looking for an escape route. He'd never say he was nervous, because that just wasn't something you go around saying, but he was certainly on edge. The apple he'd just started really digesting was threatening to make a break for it when the door opened.

He sat back indifferently, watching red-lined students filter in, casting looks his direction. Some were curious, most likely the students that hadn't even paid attention to the class they were signing up for. Some were lecherous, which spoke for themselves. Some were angry or a close step below it, Cadet Uhura. Some were uselessly excited…some little curly haired kid clutching his books to his chest that looked like a first year.

Jim's eyes snapped to a blot of darkness, following it up to the last row of the lecture. A professor in black. They had sent a professor to baby-sit him. The man had only a PADD with him, which Kirk watched as he walked, not swinging an iota. He let his eyes skitter up his back, noting the subtle way the fabric stretched over his shoulders. This man had the build of someone who could stand in a fight, rather than the pudgy waist of a professor that hadn't seen space in twenty years.

He nearly scoffed at the crisp black hair, falling perfectly. How stupid was it gong to look from the front? Kirk stopped though, narrowing his eyes to squint at the back of his head. The ears had caught his attention. He had to be seeing it wrong, but he's swear they were pointed. And Jim couldn't remember any _Vulcan_ professors he'd heard of.

The man had to turn when he sat down, and Jim confirmed that yes, his ears were pointed, and yes, his hair looked utterly ridiculous from the front. Across the room, big, expressive brown eyes flicked up to catch him staring. One eyebrow quirked in a silent question and Jim found himself looking away to regard the whole class.

A quick glance at the clock told him it was time to begin.

"Alright class." Jim started, standing.

No one stopped talking though. Jim could feel those brown eyes on him, judging. With something of a feral growl, he slammed his palm down on the desk, loud and hard enough to desperately sting, but it silenced everyone. Without a flinch, Kirk placed his hands at his back, silently rubbing the injured one where no one could see it.

"Morning." He said casually. "As I'm sure most of you know, my name is James T. Kirk."

Though he had managed to sound almost serious saying that, much of the class broke out into laughter. Jim waited it out.

"I'm your professor for Terraforming and Ecology this semester." Jim picked up a stack of papers and handed it to the curly haired kid in the first row. "I'm passing out your syllabus now. It contains the major test dates, your final project instructions, and all of the mandatory Starfleet procedural and policy information. You should know by now, don't cheat, don't plagiarize, and don't miss class. Yeah, what?"

Jim gestured to a man in the middle of the class that had raised his hand and was staring down at the syllabus. "What is this crap?"

"You'll have to be more specific." Jim chastised. "I have no idea what part you're looking at."

"This schedule." The man snorted.

Several other students chimed in, complaining about the test load or the final paper. Kirk raised his hands to silence them, noting the brown eyes in the back intently studying the paper.

"That is your tentative schedule. It's subject to change. I'll be giving you your reading assignments each night-"

"What?"

"No way!"

"-for discussion the next class." Jim ignored the chorus of protests. "That's how this class is going to work. Cooperate, and I've got some interesting activities planned out and we won't be writing reports for every class."

"This is bullshit." Giotto called over everyone. "You don't have the authority to make up this kind of schedule."

"I think, Mr. Giotto, you'll find I do." Jim's quiet words were caustic. "I also have the authority to have you administratively dropped from my class if you're too much of a disruption."

The entire class was staring at him like he was some alien thing they couldn't identify. Finally, Gaila started to chuckle. Soon the entire class was laughing uneasily, glancing amongst themselves and trying to figure out if Jim was serious or not. Uhura was watching him silently, a contemplative look on her face.

"Alright. Since we all know how to read a syllabus, let's start with a little activity." Jim clapped. "You'll get into teams based on your row and work together on this. That should be…ten teams of seven. In your groups, I want you to try and define, without using the textbook definition, what terraforming is. You have fifteen minutes."

Jim watched some scramble to form a central unit where they could all gather and brainstorm. Others sat around idly, not at all concerned by his directions. He made a note of the faces, sure they would be problems throughout the semester. Unbidden, his eyes flicked up to the professor in the back, who was watching the room with clinical precision.

As if on cue, the brown eyes flicked down to him. There was a touch of disapproval there. Wonderful.

Fifteen minutes flew by quickly, and Jim brought everyone's attention back to the front of the room. "Since the syllabus got handed out front to back, let's start with the group in the last row."

Their representative, a woman with her blond hair styled in a largely outdated look, stood with a PADD in her hands. "We defined terraforming as a once science fiction concept of turning inhospitable terrain into an environment suitable for earth-like life."

Jim nodded. "A bit too much like the actual definition, but I like the inclusion of that Sci-fi fact. Also, terraforming has come to be an all encompassing term that doesn't just refer to earth habitats, just hospitable ones. Next group?"

Janice Lester stood, fixing him with a psychotic smile. "We defined terraforming as the process of taking over the natural ecological system of a world to make it more suitable for you own taste."

Jim nodded. "You touched on an important subject there that we'll get into on another day. Next?"

Giotto punched one of his friends, Finnegan, in the arm and the other man stood. "Terraforming 's planting stuff."

"Stuff…" Jim repeated, noticing the eyebrow raise at the back of the class. "That's all you have to say?"

"You wanted our definition, didn't you?" Giotto growled.

Jim shook his head, shrugging. "Next group?"

Gaila stood up, earning quite a bit of attention for herself. "We decided terraforming was like a Hollywood set. You do stuff to make the planet like your planet, but it never actually get's there. It ends up looking like a crude imitation of what your planet is really like, which can be pretty funny, but it's still functional."

"Different direction then I thought you were going there." Jim cocked his head to the side, look of mild surprise on his face. "That's…not exactly a definition, but good. Next?"

A tall brunette, whose name he could swear was something fishy, like Marlena or something, stood, not bothering to look at her PADD. "We decided terraforming was the natural course of space exploration and the only feasible way to make extended ventures into the universe. Terraforming is, essentially, making our mark on the universe."

"Huh." Jim nodded thoughtfully. "Next group?"

Uhura stood up. Jim didn't visibly tense, but he was ready to move in a second, no matter what was required of him. She glanced, though, behind her, up at the professor in the back, and Jim's nerves started to hum in anticipation of something. The encounter was something of a let down.

"Terraforming is actively making a world habitable. It includes changing the atmosphere, adding necessary elements that are missing from the environment, and providing organic material to help it develop and evolve on its own to create viable ecosystems on the planet that could house both original and imported life."

"There you go with those definitions." Jim sighed. "Plenty of detail though, and that is one method of approach in terraforming. Next group?"

The little curly haired boy stood up excitedly, ignorant to the uncomfortable looks of his group. Jim couldn't help but wonder why they looked somewhere between nervous and amused. As soon as the boy opened his mouth, he understood their amusement. His accent was thick enough to sink in water.

"Ve hawe decided zat terraforming iz ze planting on handz und kneez. Iz nurturing plant to life und helping ze animals to be adjusting to ze neuv vorld. Iz breathing neuv air zat haz net being in existence before und finding vay to liwe vhen onden iz far from homez. Iz earth farm in countryside. Iz botanical garden in starbase und little plantz in dorm zat roommate keeps ower vatering. Terraforming iz enwironment of home in foreign place to keep liwing." He hadn't really stopped to take a breath.

Kirk blinked, taking a deep breath to finish translating. The class was watching the boy thoughtfully. Even the man in the back seemed to understand to purpose of Jim having them define terraforming without an actually definition now, even if it did seem to be an overly human idea to him. Jim grinned.

"I think you're on to something there." Jim touched a few things on his PADD, bringing information up on the screen behind him. "To point, as well as the first chapter, I want you all to read the short story 'Mare Incognitum'. It is science fiction, but don't let that stop you. We'll discuss it next class."

There were a few grumbles along with the scrape of styluses. Jim shook his head.

"Quit complaining. It's a fun story and it's only about a hundred pages. If you can't finish that in two days, you've got bigger problems than my class." Jim glanced back down at his PADD, seeing that he had nothing else to cover. "I guess that's it for today. Have a good day, and I'll see you next class."

Jim watched as they packed up, sending furtive glances at him, like they still weren't sure what to decide about him as a teacher. Jim was just ecstatic that his first day had gone halfway decently. It could have, very easily, gone disastrously. His gut told him they were just getting a feel for him as a teacher, just as he was getting a feel for them as students. It would take a few classes for all hell to break loose.

He waited patiently as the students filed out, noting the professor, in his dark uniform, hadn't left his seat. Uhura was the last to leave, looking between them a moment before letting the door close behind her. Finally, the Vulcan stood, tugging his jacket down to straighten it, and starting down the steps. Jim said nothing as he approached. Instead, they both stared at each other a moment. Jim found himself taking every inch in, from the way the fabric of the uniform sat a little too tight at his most angular spots, to the perfectly straight nose and weirdly peach-green line that made up his lips.

He flicked his eyes back up to the definitely, abnormally human brown eyes. "Can I help you?"

"I wish to review the list of reading assignments you have prepared for this course." His voice was like cream poured over jagged ice, smooth and cold and sharp.

Jim valiantly refrained from shivering, or punching him in the face. "Is that so? Do I need to get it approved by you?"

"You do not."

"Then read along with the rest of the class." Jim noticed the man had a habit of watching his lips when he spoke.

Of course, it didn't make him nervous or anything. It was just weird. The man fixed him with a quirked brow that screamed of disapproval. He watched the man fold his arms behind his back and incline his head to him.

"Very well. If you should need my assistance I will be available." Without any further information, he turned on his heel and left.

Jim scowled. Sure, he may very well be the only Vulcan professor on campus, but that was just rude. But that was just fine by him. He wasn't going to need his help. The day had gone far better than he had imagined, and he could handle it all on his own. The class was going to be awesome, and he would show them.

… .. . .. …

"So get this." Jim had just barged into his dorm, throwing himself against McCoy's desk, where he was working. "The gave me a babysitter."

McCoy blinked warily up at him. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, I mean what the hell? I'm not some kid."

"Of course." McCoy agreed a little too quickly. "It's not like you would use the class to teach a bunch of people how to be hoodlums."

"Give me more credit than that."

"Oh, I do. But the professors don't. So you're stuck with a professor keeping an eye on you when their time could be better served actually teaching, or grading, or something." McCoy snorted, looking back down at his work. "So who did the saddle you with anyway?"

"Eh, some Vulcan." Jim shrugged.

McCoy knocked him flat on his ass standing abruptly. "You can't be serious."

"I am. I know, who knew there was a Vulcan professor?" Jim rattled off absently, rubbing his thigh where he clipped it on the desk.

"There can't be too many. Not in Starfleet." McCoy mumbled, more to himself than anything else, helping Jim up. "I would love to ask him some questions about Vulcan biology. It's one of the harder alien biologies we're learning this semester. Do you think I could get a chance to talk to him?"

"God Bones, he isn't a sample in a Petri dish. I think those would be more interesting anyway."

"What do you mean?" He settled back into his chair.

"Total bore."

"Vulcans are supposed to be closed off. That doesn't mean they aren't interesting, just frustrating."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. He kept giving me weird looks anyway. Didn't like how I was teaching or something. Probably thought it might be too fun for a learning environment." Jim huffed, leaning on the desk again.

"Don't worry so much about it. Have you had lunch yet?"

"Went off campus and got a burger. You did say you were working in the clinic."

"I was."

"So you're just checking up on me. How nice." Jim grinned, slapping him on the back. "I've got a few assignments left to do. Let me know when you're done so we can go out to dinner."

"Maybe I have plans for dinner."

Jim paused, turning back to give him an incredulous look. "Seriously? Okay. Can I ask with whom?"

Bones squirmed. "Just someone from one of my classes. She wanted to talk shop."

"Over dinner…" Jim grinned. "Is she good looking?"

"You're never meeting her Jim." McCoy scowled at him. "I'm serious. Do you have any idea how long it took to convince her the rumors are completely false and we aren't in a relationship? Seriously. Everyone is convinced I'm the one man you'll go for."

"They're kind of right."

"Shut up. The feeling isn't mutual."

"So you'll just pal around with any guy?"

"Damn it Jim I'm serious."

"I know. You're a straight man with a daughter. I'm a straight guy with a track record. You still are my best friend though. If they can't help but misinterpret our epic bromance, that's their problem." Jim grinned devilishly. "Besides, it's much more fun confusing the hell out of them when they honestly can't figure out what kind of relationship we have."

"No it isn't. And you're never meeting her."

"Okay okay. Let me know when you head out though so I don't forget to eat."

… .. . .. …

There were a few students meandering outside when Jim showed up for the next class. He tugged his red jacket down subconsciously, straightening himself as he let them in. The rest followed shortly. Jim's eyes naturally followed the Vulcan as soon as he entered, traveling with him until he took his place at the back of the class. They settled down fairly quickly, though Jim heard snippets of conversations about the short story.

"Alright." Jim licked his lips to wet them, standing in front of the class. "I've got a few slides to talk to you about, and then we'll discuss the story I had you read."

There was a ripple through the room, something unidentifiable disturbing the surface tension. Jim didn't like it, but he couldn't place it just yet.

The class felt stilted as he ran through the information for the first chapter. It was a stupid chapter, defining terraforming and ecology and little else. He could have made that a preword, rather than an actual chapter, but oh well. By the time he finished, students were looking antsy. He still couldn't find the source of their shiftlessness, but he knew it was definitely there.

"So, can anyone tell me what the short story, Mare Incognitum, was about?" Jim watched as, slowly, a few students raised their hands.

He gestured to Uhura, feeling he would only get a few chances to treat her like a student before she got fed up with it. On cue, she managed to scowl at him while still looking completely like the obedient student. He'd have to figure out how she managed that line between insubordinate and perfectly fine.

"The story is about a sailor drawn through a…wormhole…across the universe." She pursed her lips with distaste at the utter lack of scientific logic behind it. "Through the anomaly was another world, very similar to his own. The only things he had with him were his dog, the fish he had caught, and the supplies on his ship. Unable to get home, he attempted to make the new world his home."

Jim nodded. "Nice summary. Can anyone tell me what he did to make the place his home?"

Marlena, he was sure that was her name, piped in immediately. "He settled on the nearby beach and built an earth style house and kept fishing."

"Did it work?"

"Net!" The boy, who's name he learned was Chekov, piped in. "He vas unhappy vith solution because vas not liek prewious home."

Gaila added her own two cents. "He started planting the things he kept on his boat to make the surrounding area to look like earth."

"And then." Another student broke in. "He was so upset when his dog was attacked by native life and died, because it was the only living thing he had from earth."

"What happened?"

"In the end." Uhura brought attention back to her. "He decided the only thing he knew was the water, and set sail on it, knowing there was no way he would survive for long with the shape his boat was in."

"Why would he do that?" Jim asked the class.

No one answered. Jim's eyes darted up to the back of the class, where the professor was watching. He considered Jim a moment, before glancing down at his PADD. Jim scowled, eyes roving over the room.

"No one? I'm not going to bite your head off. This part is open to interpretation." Jim sighed when no one spoke up. "I always thought it was because he wanted to die where he lived, in the ocean, which was the only thing that _wasn't_ unknown to him. But seriously, why would I make you read this?"

"Because you're sadistic." One student answered immediately.

"No." Jim rolled his eyes.

"Because you wanted an easy first discussion?"

"NO! Come on. You aren't even trying." Jim gave them an exasperated look.

"The exercise was designed to open a discussion about the futility of terraforming a planet already developed with sustainable life." A deep, creamy voice issued from the back of the room, causing everyone to whip their heads around.

Jim stared up at the man a moment. "So he does talk." He caught the disapproving look and grinned. "Got it in one. Well, half of it, anyway."

Jim could see the man tilt his head to the side and could swear he was lifting an eyebrow looking at him. The class slowly returned their attention to the front of the room, casting glances behind them occasionally. Resting back against the front desk, Jim crossed his arms against his chest.

"Since it took another professor to tell you the first point, I doubt you'll get the second one. Wunderkind here, in the front, mentioned last class bringing animals into a foreign environment and attempting to acclimate them to it." Jim watched the little ruski blush something fierce. "This story is a good example of that."

"His dog didn't have any problems besides getting eaten." Finnegan said harshly, snorting in derision.

"I'm not talking about his dog." Jim watched faces light up in understanding. "And important part of terraforming is not just what plants you stick on which planet, but also who you expect to go there. If you get the wrong kind of person involved…well, bad things happen."

Almost immediately, the class broke out into a discussion of _how_ to select people for that kind of work. Once the class figured out (had told to them) the hidden meaning behind the story, they started dissecting every piece of it. From the back, a dark pair of brown eyes silently kept watch, scrutinizing the discussion. Jim made his best effort to ignore him.

With a subtle glance at the clock, Kirk grinned. His second class was just about over. He clapped his hands, loudly to get the class' attention. All eyes darted to him, the last few conversations dieing off. A few quick taps on his PADD, and a short list sprang up on the screen behind him. He could already hear the groans of disappointment.

"I want you to read Miller's essay _Planet Side_, Rexlie's _The Art of Air_, and T'Pria's _Life as We Know It._ We'll be discussing them next class." Jim nodded solidly to them. "You're all dismissed."

Once again, the dark figure approached him once everyone had filed out. "Need something?"

"I will admit, I can find no logical connection between the essays you have chosen for tonight's reading." The man told him.

"Hm?" Jim glanced up from where he was straightening his bag. "Even with today's discussion? Have you ready the essays before?"

"I have. I do not-"

Jim cut him off, raising his hand. "Normally I'd tell you to wait until next class, or to just re-read them, but since you did _so_ well today, I guess I'll tell you." Jim watched a small twitch of an eyebrow that was clearly unamused. "_Planet Side_ talks about the mentality of being on a foreign planet long term. _Life as We Know It_ is all about identifying, and identifying _with_ life that is nothing like ours. _The Art of Air _is actually just there for a transition into the next discussion, actual terraforming techniques."

The man raised an eyebrow at him. "Your intent is to delve further into the mindset of the people behind terraforming operations?"

"Yup. It's going to be a big underlying theme with me, so get used to it."

"Indeed." Both eyebrows had shot up.

Jim snorted. "I have a class to get to. See you on Monday."

… .. . .. …

The entire school was buzzing with gossip. Jim valiantly didn't hunch his shoulders as he stalked to his class. Of course they were discussing him, for the first time ever, he hadn't pulled a prank on the first weekend of the semester. He wanted to. Oh how he wanted to, but he'd made a deal with Pike.

Once again some students were waiting on him to open the door. There were a few odd sneers and chuckles they thought were behind his back as he let them in. His students came in loudly, chatting and laughing, and sending looks his way. Once again tall, dark and stately took a seat at the back.

"Good morning class." Jim watched the conversations taper, dropping considerably in volume. "Who actually read the material I assigned?"

Only a few hands shot up and Jim fought back a scowl. He was expecting this. With a snort, he shook his head and gestured to Uhura.

"Alright. Summarize _Planet Side_ for me."

She furrowed her brow, but nodded. "The essay analyzes the journals of three people on long term missions on different planets. In analyzing the journals, it highlights the points where there were large shifts in mentality. In one of the subjects, it followed a decent into madness, slowly loosing his mind. Another became power crazed and convinced he could make every planet a better place. The third watched similar occurrences in the people assigned to the planet with her and became highly cynical and depressed. Finally, Miller wrote about his own experiences on a long term colony and how most people got along fine. The problem, he said was that those who weren't meant to explore space didn't do well away from their own planet and those that were didn't do well on just one. It took a strange medium for people who didn't want to be on their home planet, but weren't drifters either."

"A perfect summary." Jim nodded to her. "Can anyone tell me why that might be the case?"

The blond with the hair piped up immediately. "It's sort of like when we were first creating colonies on our planet. The explorers wanted to keep exploring and the people who weren't cut out for making it themselves often died. A lot of times it was criminals and entrepreneurs and people seeking freedoms they didn't have before that made a colony work."

"Shouldn't there be some sort of vetting process?" Finnegan snorted. "I mean, who the hell lets megalomaniacs on a terraforming colony?"

"Starfleet." Jim answered honestly. "And there is a vetting process. It just isn't as refined as it needs to be."

Finnegan shot him a dirty look and Jim frowned. The room whispered amongst itself for a moment and Jim slapped his hand down on the desk, smiling tightly at them. With a wave of his hand, he gestured to Chekov.

"What about _Life as We Know It_? What can you tell me about that?"

"Iz description of Wulcan concept IDIC being as applied to ze vorking on planet vith natiwe lifes. It follouves process of ze identifying life und accepting difference in communication und cultural practicingz. Ze paper discuss seweral large cultural difference between accepted practicez of majority of ze Federation und a feuv remote planetz culture. Onden issuez iz 'free louve' culture. Iz like bonobos of Earth. Iz…net compatible vith sensibilities of most ze Federation. But iz way of liwing." He frowned, seeming to consider it a moment. "Iz serious debatez un vether iz right to be changing culture practicez to be fitting vith our ouven standardz und morez."

"You're right." Kirk nodded. "It is a serious debate. We _know_ it's wrong to treat people like objects, but there's a plant that the Federation has made contact with, that we have no alliance to, that treats men like money. They're often passed between hands and used in horrific ways. It's the way things have always been done on their planet. They think a patriarchal society, or even a society of equals is horrifying and disgusting. What's the measure of a man? Can we apply humanity to something not human? And in this same line, can we apply Earth-like qualities to something that isn't Earth? Just because we can't live in it, does that warrant us trying to recreate it in a way that we're more used to?"

People shuffled in their seats a moment, showing surprise that something like that came out of James T. Kirk's mouth. He felt a curl of disgust in his stomach. Was it really so shocking that he could provide insightful commentary? He glanced up at the Vulcan in the back and frowned.

"I want a two page report on your opinion on this next class. It should be easy, if you've already read the material. I'm not looking for grammar and spelling, but I swear I will throw out chat speak. You can't really go wrong on this since it is an opinion paper." Jim saw a few disgusted looks. "Now, who wants to tell me about _The Art of Air_?"

The rest of the class was tense and people shot daggers at him when he gave them another three papers to read. Curiously, the Vulcan didn't approach him at the end of class. He didn't care, refused to, though the rest of his day was tense and awkward. People were staring at him, watching him.

Something had shifted.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**Next chapter starts a fall out.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Don't own Star Trek. Enjoy the chapter.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

Tuesday was the most awkward day yet, with students rushing to avoid him. Jim practically stormed into his next class after that kind of day, causing several students to squeak in alarm. He collected the assignment, scowling at how few names showed up. He opened the assignment folder, showing it to the class.

"I see a good number of you didn't take me seriously." Jim started opening assignments. "I'm making this for a grade. A good number of you have just lost your first points of the year."

He systematically went through the papers, deleting any shorter than two pages from the assignment folder or ones that were blatantly off topic. When all was said and done, he only had a handful of student papers he deemed acceptable.

"Of those of you, whose papers are here on the screen, I'll be reading through them and you'll be receiving your grade out of ten points. We will be going over slides today, and discussing the papers you read. At the end of class, I'll be giving you five papers to read and you will be writing a two page report on any one of the papers analyzing it, or a comparison of any of the articles you have read so far." Jim looked up, shutting off the projector behind him. "If you take this assignment easy, you will regret it. Mr. Giotto, how nice of you to join us. I won't be accepting late papers. Get to your seat."

Giotto froze in the doorway, a shocked and annoyed look on his face. The rest of the class was pale, looking sick from his declaration. The Vulcan seated in the back was watching him almost curiously, with an inquisitive look on his face. Giotto paled considerably when Finnegan whispered to him just what happened.

Jim had moved on to the slides, a measured step too fast to be comfortable, without unduly rushing them. He _didn't_ want to be one of those teachers that failed students just to be malicious. They were feeling his annoyance by the end of class though, sulking out with hurt looks on their faces, mixes of anger and confusion evident in all of them.

"You chose to be unusually strict on them." The Vulcan stated.

"I'm not here to baby them; I'm here to teach them. I can't do that if they won't let me." Jim growled, not in the mood.

"I was not making a judgment, Mr. Kirk. I was stating an observation."

Jim snarled, starting for the door. "I have a class. Have a nice day."

… .. . .. …

"Fuck off Kirk."

Jim blinked in surprise as Ben Finney snarled at him when he came to sit with him at lunch. "What?"

"Careful Ben." Areel Shaw hissed. "He might report you for your language."

"What's gotten your panties in a twist?" Jim snapped, feeling off put by the sudden reaction.

"You. You fucker." Ben growled angrily at him. "You fucking traitor. Maybe in a couple years it would have been alright but we're your god damn peers Kirk. We're your fucking friends. We aren't some god damn new recruits for you to push around. What gives you a right?"

"The hell are you on about Finney?" Jim scowled.

"You're one of them. You're a fucking _professor_ Kirk. I know a lot of cadets take up a class or two before their first posting but your still a god damn cadet. Except, you aren't any more. You're not one of us."

Jim let a cocky, snarling smile slid on his face, because otherwise the shock would show. "What's the matter? Jealous because you weren't asked to handle it? Pissed off because even with all that love for the service you can't amount to anything and you know you've got at least five years of teaching before they'll let you near a ship? Because you were hoping to get one out of the way? And because I'll work my way up the command branch in no time while you sit around planet side, _dreaming_ of getting a captaincy?"

"Shove off Kirk." Areel replied before Finney could boil over. "You aren't welcome here. You aren't welcome with any of the cadets."

"Don't know why I'd want to spend time with you all anyway. You're below me in just about every sense of the word." Jim turned on his heel and left the canteen, well aware that every eye in the room was on him.

There was no coming back from that scene. He knew it the second he exited the doors. It was all he had not to run straight to his dorm and lament the stupidity of that action. No, he walked very carefully there, punched a wall, and proceeded to implement his class plan for what he had prepared during the summer. They were going to regret this. All he wanted was to do a good job and they were all going to regret pissing on his efforts.

… .. . .. …

He'd wanted the moment of drama, when everyone saw him. So he made sure the door was unlocked after his first class and ducked into a bathroom. It was fortunately empty. He was quick to change, tucking the red uniform away into his bag. In the mirror was a different man, a different creature entirely. He had to admit, the black uniform was practically made for him. And, he noted with satisfaction, his blue eyes looked like pure ice with that uniform bringing out the cold air around him.

All of the chatter died down the second he opened the door. He knew he was a minute late, but it was worth it for the entrance. Everyone gawked as he made his way to the front desk, perfectly collected, nothing like the _cadet_ that everyone was used to. If they wanted him to be a professor, than fine. He'd be a professor. Brown eyes seemed devotedly interested in the back row, the only other splotch of black in the room sitting on the other side of that table too.

"The folder is now open. Turn in your assignments now." Jim knew what he sounded like, knew how cold and firm his voice was.

He hated that voice. Hated who it represented to him. Hated the ivory walls it brought up around him immediately, gilded iron gates locking them all out. Those two sentences cemented it, that they were no longer his peers. This wasn't what he wanted, wasn't how he wanted to be. But it was what they wanted, and he would show them just what they asked for.

The class was stunned silent throughout the lecture, speechless. What could they say? They didn't recognize the blond in front of them. Couldn't recognize the man dressed in _black_. This, this pariah of theirs, was not what it should have been. The wrongness of the situation was lost on no one. They knew, by the end of class, how to take it though, when he assigned more readings. He was most definitely lost to them, no longer the student and peer. And he could see how they resented him, for representing what they despised.

"You have chosen to wear the uniform of Starfleet instructors."

Jim cast a questioning look at the Vulcan as he approached. "Isn't that a little too obvious for you?"

"May I inquire as to your reason behind choosing to make such a change?"

"If they're ever going to treat me as their teacher, they need to realize that there is a difference between us. I'm not their peer anymore, and they have to see that difference." Jim's voice was level, but his stomach churned with the idea.

The Vulcan lifted an eyebrow. "Fascinating."

Jim could hear it in his voice, reflecting his own worries. What would this do? They were no longer his peers, but he was still a cadet. This would change things considerably. This would be a problem. He was an experiment, and he could see it in the man's eyes.

"If you aren't going to help, then stay out of my way." The challenge in Jim's voice was clear.

"I have yet to rescind my offer to assist you."

Jim inhaled sharply, snorting out a breath through his nose. "Why are you here? Did Pike tell you to keep an eye on me?"

"He suggested that I may find your lectures to be of interest." The Vulcan admitted. "However, I am attending your class in my free time. At no point was I asked to assess your performance."

Jim frowned. "I don't know what to tell you. You'll be disappointed. Might as well stick around for the show now, though. See how it all blows up, right?"

He left at that, not waiting for a response. There was no time for him to change back, after his discussion with the other professor. It was a mute point. Everyone knew, before he had left the room, that he'd signed off his allegiance and was official one of _them_.

The next day, he chose not to don his cadet uniform. What was the point to it, anymore? McCoy gave him a look, that morning, before simply sighing and shaking his head. He already knew there was nothing he could do. There was no argument he could make against his hotheaded roommate that would change his actions. He simply told him to be careful, and to think it all through.

… .. . .. …

"Fascinating."

Jim glanced up, catching the sight of the Vulcan in the mirror. "Did you need something?"

"You are three minutes late."

Jim sighed, splashing more water on his face. The weekend had been murder. It was only two weeks into the semester and he wasn't sure if he could do this. Hadn't he been the one to defiantly deny the idea that he would need help after just a month? He straightened, tossing the water from his hair and turning around.

"I'm aware of that." Jim gestured for the door, starting out of the bathroom. "I just needed a moment before today's discussion."

"Indeed?" That eyebrow climbed higher.

Jim said nothing, simply waiting for him to enter first before stepping into the room. The hateful looks he received already felt like habit as people turned in their assignments. The only people not glaring at him were Gaila, Chekov, and Uhura. It was an odd set of people, but he'd wait to figure out their motives some other time.

"Alright." Jim said when the slides were done. "Time for discussion. Who here believes Rojak was correct in his essay _The Corruption of Good Intentions_? Who doesn't?"

He saw an eyebrow in the back row fly up along with several hands. He gestured to Lester to begin the discussion.

"I don't think it's near the problem he seemed to think it is." She announced. "All of the examples he listed were extraneous circumstances that had no basis for how they should have acted. They were doing the best they could."

"They weren't even that bad." Finnegan continued. "I mean, so one guy cut rations on the people who did easy jobs so the people working heavy labor wouldn't face a shortage and could keep up production, that isn't so bad."

"And another, that chick." Giotto added. "What did you expect, having to ration air with more than half of her scrubbers not working and the plants that were there to fill the atmosphere with air all dieing off? It would have been stupid to fill the critical wings of the hospitals with air when they already weren't going to live."

"I disagree." Uhura snapped, earning everyone's attention. "Most of them had other remedies. Not one of them contacted Starfleet when it first started happening. Protocol says that when a terraforming project first starts going wrong you have to report it. Lives could have been saved if they would have admitted they needed help."

"No." Lester hissed. "The third example _did_ contact Starfleet. And close to a year later they got around to looking at the problem."

"Iz net fault of Starfleet." Chekov yelped. "Ze report vas not saying that vas emergency. Zey had no vay of knouving zat vhat vas happening vas pressing matter."

"It doesn't happen enough to be relevant." The girl with the beehive hair announced.

"Charlotte Main." Jim's voice cut through the discussion. "Colony 87FG4; crop failure, report made after two months, deemed a reasonably timely response. One third of the colony died due to malnutrition. She chose with a dartboard. Valek. Colony 67K4E; oxygen level failure, report made after first twenty hours. Three fourths of the colony dead. Systematic lockdowns were made with no warning so as to prevent people from escaping the areas that would have the atmosphere removed."

Jim stood from behind the desk, blue eyes serious. "Natari Vicar. Colony 13LHY; crop failure, report made at first signs, deemed to soon to warrant assistance, food rationed equally between all people. Reported again after four months. Four fifths of the colony died. Marcus Gantry. Colony 42JF1; abnormal weather patterns, no report made. Half of the colony died due to inadequate shelter and improper living conditions. Discovered when Starfleet arrived for a routine inspection."

The class was gawking silently as he leaned heavily on his desk. "Jonathan Twill. Colony 29WR4; mysterious disease, reported after one week. Ten dead due to the disease, a quarter of the colony quarantined and murdered due to believed exposure to it. Garrak. Colony N64L3; inadequate construction. Two fifths of the colony was sold to Orion slave traders to 'make room', decided by the slavers. Kodos. Colony-"

"That is classified." The Vulcan was standing, hands behind his back and staring coldly at him.

"You're right. It is classified." Jim glanced at the room. "There are fifteen colonies that were abandoned with a big classified stamp across them in the last thirty years alone. A slew of ones aren't, like the ones I've already mentioned. Right or wrong, you can't say it doesn't happen often enough to be relevant."

"What about you?" Uhura sounded confused and curious. "What do you think of Rojak's report?"

"It was written twenty six years ago by a man who had never been on a colony that faced hardship." Jim told her. "The mentality of the people in that kind of situation can't be described by someone who's never seen it first hand."

"But do you agree with him, that the majority of them were honestly trying to do something right?" Giotto challenged. "That the problem is in letting them have total power and not what they were trying to accomplish?"

"Sorry." Jim sneered, eye locked on the Vulcan. "But I'm afraid that's classified too."

"How can an opinion be classified?" Gaila spoke up, arms folded over her chest.

"Care to field this one?" Jim gestured to the Vulcan who was still standing, staring at him. "No? I'm giving you all a break from reading for the next two classes. I want a report, in a week, on your opinion on the matter. Do you think it's a problem, what do you think the problem is, how would you select someone to be the head of a colony, and what kind of basis do you think should be created for these kind of situations? Use references to actually show your point. We'll be discussing the current process for choosing who is in charge of a colony next class."

They gawked a moment and, when no one said anything he dismissed them. The Vulcan didn't take a seat, staring at him until the class was fully exited.

"I do not know how you became aware of this information."

"What makes you think I am?" Jim smirked, leaning on his desk. "Everyone knows the name Kodos the Executioner."

"…You assumed I would stop you before your ruse necessitated divulgence of classified information you did not possess?"

"Maybe." Jim glanced down at his nails, picking dirt from under one of them. "I've got a class. Thanks for the bang up job today. Be sure to let me know what you think of my assignment lists."

"Fascinating." The word followed him out of the room, and stuck with him all day.

… .. . .. …

Jim survived the first month. And the second, to a point. It wasn't until the last weekend of the second month that something went wrong. A teacher, which he should have expected. After all, he was an interloper. They were sure to remind him of that fact, brutally.

Jim glowered into his drink at the bar, well off of campus. So what? So he wasn't a professor, that was obvious, and he wasn't a cadet anymore either. He was straddling a line he had no business being on and he wasn't welcome on either side.

"Mr. Kirk."

Jim glanced up sharply at the familiar voice. "If it isn't the curious professor. Come to tell me you won't be in my next class? Or are you here to lecture me on decorum for a professor. I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm not one. I'm not anything."

"You are intoxicated."

Jim blinked at him a moment before laughing heartily and patting the stool next to him. "I am that."

The Vulcan hesitated only a moment before taking the seat. "You are struggling with your position as both student and teacher."

"What would you know?"

"Captain Pike also requested I teach when I was still a cadet." The Vulcan told him. "I admit it did not interfere with my associations with fellow cadets as it has apparently done to you, as I was not welcome among my peers. However, the distance between my educators and myself did not lessen."

Jim furrowed his brow, peering at him intently. "Why are you talking to me? I'm the trouble maker. The interloper. The traitor. You're only going to make yourself a target."

"I do not care for the opinion of others."

Jim raised his eyebrows, setting down his glass. "Why do you want to help me?"

"Are you aware that, for the first year of teaching, instructors at the academy are given an advisor?"

"No." Jim admitted, narrowing his eyes. "What? Are you offering?"

"I am." He tilted his head to the side. "Student teachers are given no such opportunity. As such, it would be unofficial. However, I believe you are quite capable of enriching the curriculum here. If you were to succeed in what I believe you are currently attempting, I estimate a 98.467 percent chance that you will permanently alter the current Starfleet curriculum on Terraforming and Ecology. Further, I believe you will set a precedent for student teachers."

Jim stared at him a moment, digesting what he had just been told. "But you don't think I can do it on my own."

"Negative. You are most likely capable. However, I believe it will occur more smoothly if you have the assistance of someone who is experienced in the politics involved in academia." The Vulcan's lips twitched through what could be possibly warped into a mischievous smirk. "I also was given the impression that you desired a command position. A captain must be aware of when to utilize the personnel offered to them."

Jim's eyes widened and his mouth flapped a moment. "You're serious? You want to use this as a demonstration of my captaincy abilities?"

"I would not suggest it if I did not believe you were capable of doing so."

"I…" Jim frowned, looking him over closely a moment before nodding. "Alright. I'll accept your help."

"I do not believe you will come to regret this decision, Mr. Kirk."

"Jim." He replied. "If we're in this together, we're in it all the way."

"Very well, Jim." He paused a moment to consider him. "I am Spock."

"Well Spock, we've got a lot to do to bring you up to speed." Jim grinned, hopping off his barstool.

… .. . .. …

To say McCoy was thrilled would be quite the mixed message. His first, knee-jerk reaction when Jim came into their dorm with a professor tailing him was horror and confusion. Soon, curiosity and excitement got the better of him and he started a medical inquiry that would make any member of Starfleet proud. Spock politely answered his queries while Jim danced around, collecting his materials. Half an hour later, he rescued the Vulcan before McCoy could get to the particularly devastating questions.

His disappointed sigh was highly audible as they left. Jim rolled his eyes, heading towards the library.

"Sorry about him. Doctors, you know?"

"I am aware." He sounded no worse for wear, so Jim assumed everything was alright. "His enthusiasm for his craft is admirable, if somewhat overbearing."

Jim laughed. "That's Bones. Overbearing. Alright. I've got all the course material I've prepped and I've got the course plan I made up. And some of the tests. I was thinking I would give one test before the mid term, and another before the final."

"Do you currently have the tests written?"

"The first one and the mid-term. I haven't decided on the second or the final. I kind of want to see how far they get before I finalize it. And I have the final project I'm planning. I can't decide if I want it to be a team project or and individual assignment."

"What is this project you are planning?" Spock asked, taking a seat in the completely abandoned library.

Jim plopped down across from him, a little too fast. "Well, we've been discussing actual terraforming techniques as well as selecting people to colonize. I was thinking, randomly assign them planets and have them create a plan to terraform them. They'd have to pick which plants would survive in the terrain and what kind of people to go, how to select them. They'd need to identify what animals would be brought in, and create a timeline for it. It would be a huge project. Maybe I should cut out the final all together, since this _really_ shows if they learned anything."

"Fascinating." Jim looked up from his slightly drunken ramble to see wide, excited brown eyes watching him with just the slightest him of anticipation.

He felt himself blushing. "Well, but I could definitely use a hand. You know, look it all over, help me decide…"

So they put their heads together, figuratively of course. Jim found himself marveling a little at the quick replies and immediate understanding of the man sitting with him. It was the first time someone actually got what he was saying before it was even fully out of his mouth. The deeper they got into the subject, the more the man seemed to open up, genuine joy and excitement radiating from each measured word.

"I thought Vulcan's didn't do emotions." Jim brought it all to a screeching halt with one drunken statement.

"We do not." Spock managed to remove every ounce of inflection from his voice.

"I-I wasn't complaining." Jim stuttered a moment, caught off guard by that sudden turn.

"I believe we are done for the night."

Jim stared off in the direction he left long after he was gone. It was obvious what he had said, and maybe even why it had been such a problem. What wasn't obvious was, why had it felt like a knife to the heart when he stopped?

… .. . .. …

Oh yeah. That was the icing on the cake. Jim watched every person in the room gawk as Spock handed him a PADD, loudly declaring that he had looked over the assignment as Jim had requested and felt it was an exceedingly exceptional prospect. So, rather than explain, Jim gave them a review, telling them the had a test the next class.

He didn't miss the look on Uhura's face when Jim beamed at Spock. Clearly she knew who he was and did not approve of Jim getting to know him. Jim watched him take a seat before turning to the class to help them through the review, or rather to drag out their torture with it. He was momentarily caught off guard, after he dismissed the class, when Uhura stayed a moment, staring at Spock, like there was something she could decipher from just looking at him. Jim cocked his head to the side as she left, before glancing at his friendly Vulcan.

"You know her?"

"She has been one of my most skilled linguistics students." Spock replied, not even looking at the door.

"Go figure. Always knew she had a good tongue on her." Jim shrugged, not meaning that in a filthy way for once in his life. "I'll…uh…see you later."

If there were any doubts left, about his joining the dark side, they were erased when he issued the test. It was hard, specifically because it required very little memorization and quite a bit of critical thinking. Jim was pleased to find the average score was eight-three percent. The class was not. Jim distinctly felt the bitterness in the air inch up a bit more and promptly ignored it.

What he couldn't ignore, however, was his immense and rather sudden reliance on Spock. It wasn't even for important things, which frustrated him to no end. If it were something big, he'd sit there for hours before he grudgingly mentioned anything to the other man. But, he found himself asking stupid questions that didn't even come up. Like how he was supposed to handle office hours, if a student actually came in for them. Or how many grammar mistakes warranted a lower grade.

He also couldn't ignore the way Spock responded. No matter what time of the day it was, even when he _knew_ Spock had a lecture, he always received an immediate response. It was as comforting as it was frightening, which just left him confused and frustrated.

McCoy always gave him a strange look when he brought it up before shaking his head, calling Jim blind, and telling him to go away. This, Jim couldn't help but think, was grossly unfair and improper decorum for a best friend/roommate.

… .. . .. …

"I really appreciate you taking the time to help me with this." Jim mumbled, staring down at his PADD and trailing after Spock. "I mean, this isn't even work for the class I'm teaching. You don't have to help."

"I am aware." Spock glanced back at him, ensuring he was still following.

Jim's stomach rumbled and he rolled his eyes, grabbing gum from his pocket. Spock caught his arm easily, a curious look on his face.

"Perhaps it would be best if we were to discuss your work over a meal?"

Jim flushed. "Ah. No, that's okay. I haven't been eating lunch lately anyway."

"It is ill-advised to skip meals. You will not receive adequate nutrition if you do so."

"Now you sound like Bones." Jim chuckled awkwardly. "Don't worry about it. It's just awkward going off campus for lunch and…well, never mind."

"Jim?"

He scrunched up a bit at his name, completely powerless for answering. "Let's just say I'm not a cadet anymore, and the canteen is full of ones who are keen to remind me of that."

"You are facing harassment from your peers." Not a question, so technically he didn't have to make any indication for or against that. "You are welcome to dine with me in the teacher facilities."

Jim winced from the whiplash of snapping his head up so fast too look at him. "Bullshit."

Spock winged up an eyebrow at him. "While I am becoming increasingly more familiar with your use of standard, I do not understand your disbelief."

"It's bad enough you're helping me." Jim yelped, surprised that he actually didn't get this. "Everyone knows _that_. But you can't just bring the interloper into the _teacher's_ canteen. Do you have any idea what that would do? It's like you're asking for us to get butchered. Giant red target there on our backs. Might as well paint it on."

Spock considerately let him finish his rant before doing the Vulcan equivalent of an eye roll. "I was unaware that the boldness you usually display was limited only to sporks and your fellow students."

Jim gaped, opening and closing his mouth in the hopes something would come out. "I only started doing this to get the teachers off my back so I wouldn't get kicked out."

That…was not what he was planning to say. It wasn't a surprise to Spock, as they had discussed his reasons for taking the position before, but the statement had an entirely different meaning to it in this context.

"So you will hang your head and hope not to stand out?" Spock managed to get a hint of disbelief and disappointment in his voice. "You will attempt to blend in and be _just another student_."

That stung. Jim tugged his arm back, ready to argue and scream and point out that there was no way for this to go right and Pike should have known better and it wasn't his fault. "There's no such thing as no-win scenarios."

Spock raised both eyebrows, almost impressed with the declaration. Jim understood. He knew that he couldn't toe the line and hope to just lay low. He had to own the situation, make it work exactly as he wanted and force everyone to play by his rules. And, he realized, he had an ally in his corner to help him do that. _Spock_ understood that too and he could help.

Ivory walls and gilded gates. _This_ was what the professors wanted, and they would see exactly what they asked for. The students and the teachers put him in this position, and now he was going to give them what they wanted. Not a cadet, just not a professor. And not a professor, just not a cadet. They said what he couldn't be, not what he had to be. And he was going to be James T. Kirk, trouble maker.

And he was going to teach _everyone_ a lesson this time.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**So, Spock has talked some sense into a favorite Captain and gotten him out of his rut.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own Star Trek. Oh and…uh…I don't own _The Three Musketeers_ either. Seriously though, read the original book.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

Jim started taking his lunches with Spock. The entire school seemed to fall off its axis at this point. Bones sighed every time he saw him, but offered up no excuse for why. His students and really everyone on campus gawked at him everywhere he went.

Jim's biggest lament was that he wasn't going to be able to get a fieldtrip to a colony approved. Spock suggested that, if he should teach the class again the next semester, he should request it before the first day. While he would need a real professor to sign off on it, he now had Spock at his back. What shocked Jim the most was, he considered it before he even realized he had been thinking of teaching the class again.

He was starting to settle into something of a routine. No one respected him, yet, but everyone was off balance and weren't quite sure how to handle him. They were in the middle of class when something threw _him_ off balance.

Jim glanced up sharply at the sound of a PADD beeping. "Mr. Finnegan. While I understand you could not physically care less about this discussion, at least do not interrupt the students who are finding this lesson actually useful. Turn off your messaging or at least if you won't respect that turn off the sound."

Finnegan glared at him, but did as he was told. Turning off the sound, that it. Jim could see him glancing down at his PADD every now and then and snickering. With a growl, he slammed his hand down.

"That is it. Bring me your PADD. You can have it back when class is over."

Finnegan paled, but Giotto elbowed him, grinning. The entire class watched, silently, as Finnegan went to the front and set the PADD on his desk, turned on. Jim picked it up as he rushed back to his seat to turn it off. The messaging screen was still open and what he saw there made his knuckles go white from his grip on the PADD.

_Giotto: Stupid slut is making eyes at that alien professor._

_Finnegan: You think he'd actually bang a prof. with the students off limit?_

_Giotto: Bet he bent over backwards as soon as he got that uniform._

_Finnegan: Kirk? Taking it? No way. He probably has boinked every girl professor, but there's no way he'd do a guy._

_Giotto: No saying he's the one doing dumbass. Look't the way he watched that point-eared freak. He probably has him bend him over a desk when no one's in here._

_Finnegan: Shtupping dudes? You think he's got it in him?_

_Giotto: Think he's got that prof. in him._

_Finnegan: I don't know, Kirk's kind of a control freak. If he is into dudes, don't you think he'd top?_

_Giotto: Probably gets off on having his power taken away. Sick bastard._

_Finnegan: Probably the only reason he's getting anything done then. Go a few rounds with a professor and get them to do his work._

_Giotto: That Vulcan? Probably does it while they're fucking._

_Finnegan: Ha. As if. Kirk would get turned off by the thought of using his brain._

Jim blamed his ability to read very quickly for taking that all in before he could look away. His jaw tightened and he felt the only saving grace that kept him from changing colors was the blood rushing away from his face in anger was matching up with his angered flush.

"Spock." Jim called, setting the PADD down but not looking up.

The entire class glanced at Spock, and then Giotto and Finnegan, who both paled considerably. "Yes?"

"I need you to go get Pike for me." At that Jim looked up, and could see the absolute terror on the two's faces. "I'm afraid I can't handle this one with out him."

Spock didn't hesitate to stand, nodding. "Very well. I will return shortly."

Jim nodded as he exited before turning back to the class. "Where were we in our discussion?"

"They aren't in trouble?" Gaila asked glancing at them.

"That is none of your concern. However, right now we're having a discussion." Jim instructed. "Where were we?"

"Ve vere to being mention ze effect of single biome on enwironment and single veather patternz on ze brain." Chekov piped up.

The discussion was tense and Giotto and Finnegan kept slinking further into their seats as the minutes ticked by. Soon, Spock returned with a harried Pike in tow. Jim didn't even look at him, handing the PADD over. When he finished reading, he was a considerably darker shade of red then Jim.

"Why didn't you tell me this was what it was about?" Pike whispered to Spock, waving the PADD at him.

Spock raised both eyebrows. "I was unaware of the content."

Pike turned to Jim, an almost apologetic look on his face. "Who are the two students?"

"Giotto and Finnegan." Jim gestured to the two. "While I have no official say in this, can I recommend it not go on their permanent record?"

The whole class jolted, including Pike. Spock cocked his head to the side, looking very interested in what Jim had to say. The blond smiled sardonically.

"If everyone got a note on their permanent record for disliking and disrespecting me, there'd be no one left in the fleet to work on the ships."

Pike glanced at the room before nodding. "I'll consider it. You two, with me."

Giotto and Finnegan quickly picked up their bags and raced to do as they were told by the captain, glancing repeatedly at Jim with equal looks of confusion. A moment of silence passed after they left and then Jim returned everyone to the conversation. By the end of class, something had shifted in the room. Jim wasn't looking forward to the moment when he would be alone in the classroom with Spock, so he tried to hurry out after Chekov.

"Jim." Spock called and Jim turned around, because he wasn't going to be able to avoid this. "It was…commendable that you chose not to affect their career when they were simply acting out of frustration."

Jim found himself laughing before he realized it. "Frustration? _They're_ frustrated?"

"Neither individual is sure how they should treat you in light of your actions. Few in the academy are. Also, Cadet Giotto exhibited common signs of jealousy and sexual frustration towards you."

Jim flushed. "Whoa. No. That was just bullying. I'm old enough they can call _me_ a slut and they aren't very creative."

Spock's eyes darkened. "It would seem a considerable number of 'bullies' lack imagination."

Jim frowned. "I'm sorry your name got dragged into that. I didn't think that part of my reputation was going to bog you down too."

Spock's ears tinged green. "It is of no consequence. I have already informed you that I do not care for the opinion of others. The rumors of your promiscuity pale in comparison to the benefits of being allowed to converse with you. Further, there are far worse rumors one could be associated with."

"Oh." Jim paused, furrowing his brow. "Wait, are you saying there's something worse for your career than people thinking you've slept with me?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, though the green color was creeping down his neck. "Considering that the actual act of copulating with you would hardly be damaging to my career in any way, unsubstantiated rumors are of little concern."

Jim felt his face blossom with heat. There was no _reason_ for him to be embarrassed, but he was. It was weird, but the only other person who had put up with Jim's friendship and the…difficulties…attached to it without asking for something in return was Bones. Seeing Spock so willing to disregard some petty statements was reassuring in a way Jim wasn't used to feeling.

Jim raced off. It wasn't like Spock was trying to embarrass him. Damn Giotto and damn Finnegan anyway for putting him in that position. Their lunch later was awkwardly stilted, and Jim practically ran away as soon as he could. Spock had brushed the first off as him needing to hurry to his class, but Jim was sure there was a suspicion in his eyes as he ran off the second time.

… .. . .. …

"Kirk!" The girl with the bee-hive on her head from his class ran up to him in the hall, looking excited.

"Rand?" Jim sincerely hoped he was getting her name right, and by the way her smile didn't drop, he assumed he was. "What do you need?"

It if wasn't awkward that a cadet was talking to him outside of class, it was certainly awkward that everyone was staring in confusion. She handed him a data chip, squeaking practically with her enthusiasm.

"So I was reading through the articles you assigned and one of the names looked familiar. We read an interview with him in my journalistic writing class!" She rambled enthusiastically, oblivious to the blank stare he was giving her. "And you mentioned last class that you couldn't find where he had said that terraforming was an invasive and murderous process and I remembered that it was in that interview we read! So I talked to my old professor and she lent me the interview!"

Jim's eyebrows had flown up and he found himself smiling at her. "Thank you. Can I get this back to you tomorrow?"

She nodded enthusiastically, running off. "Yes! See you in class."

Jim shook his head, staring down at the chip in wonder. Apparently the discussion had really left an impression on that girl. After that, it seemed more of his students were rushing up to him in the halls to ask a quick question or just mention something they had noticed in some obscure article they were reading somewhere.

The mid term came and went, and the class average was a ninety. Far more people were enthused by that number then they had been by the previous scores. Without hesitation, Kirk launched them into the final project.

That seemed to throw the students fully behind the concept that he was their professor, not their peer. And with it…

And with it the strange realization that they could _treat_ him like a professor. He had students messaging him at all hours of the day asking questions, catching him between classes to monopolize his time. More than once he had been dragged off to the library by his own students to give them ideas for their research. He wasn't sure how exactly to handle it all.

Spock simply reminded him of office hours, something Jim promptly introduced but had difficulty enforcing. McCoy laughed at him whenever he brought it up.

They didn't like him, per say, but he suddenly felt like the most popular man on campus with a small and dedicated group of people. And no one else could understand what was happening, because at the same time, they clammed up about his class. There was a strange force that seemed to make them all change topic the second they were asked about Kirk and their sudden enthusiasm to speak with him.

The discussions were becoming almost chaotic, with students standing from their seats to shout and argue their points of view. Kirk wasn't sure if he should feel a little pride at what was happening or not.

… .. . .. …

"You don't get it Bones. I *cough* I _have_ to go!" Jim insisted, trying to push away the blanket that had somehow tangled him up and restrained him in his bed.

"And I'm telling you, you can't." McCoy sighed, finishing dressing for the morning. "I gave you something for the fever, but there aren't any miracle drugs for this kind of thing. You're going to take a day or two to get better even with the medicine I gave you."

"I'll wear a face mask so no one else gets sick." He declared, though he had given up struggling, panting horribly from the exertion.

"You're going to lie in bed." The doctor corrected. "I haven't seen a cold this bad since my first year in Starfleet. Do you remember what happened that time?"

Jim scrunched up under his blanket, scowling. "'S just a cold."

"And you were just dizzy lying down." McCoy snorted, shaking his head. "Take the day off. Call Pike if you need someone to cover the class that bad. But do _not_ go anywhere."

Jim nodded unenthusiastically. He didn't want to leave it to some other professor, but there was no helping it. He'd rather someone else was there then they didn't get this vital part for their projects. With his teeth gritted, he called up Pike.

… .. . .. …

To be fair to the professor covering Jim's class, they were equally shocked to see him. He hadn't been expecting to see Jim's students running around the room like maniacs, their discussion nearly deafening as he opened the door. Nor was he expecting to actually see Spock in the back, looking mildly confused, by virtue of having one eyebrow raised higher than was normal even for him.

The room came to a dead silence seconds after him entering though. A creepy, still, roaring silence that would cause any normal person's nerves to lock up and play possum. After a moment, Uhura broke him out of his statuesque nature.

"Where's Kirk?"

"Sick." He squeak/coughed. "I've been left instructions to have you watch a film and then discuss it as a class.

"Oh." Gaila frowned. "Is Jim coming back next class?"

"I don't know that." He turned to his PADD, attempting to start up the video. "Ah…Does anyone know how to get this thing started?"

"Da!" Chekov jumped up. "Iz on old system. I vill start ze mowie."

The movie started with a camera blocked by the back of several people's heads and an ungodly light flair. It shook a bit as it was moved into position, before somewhat steadying to reveal a middle-aged alien woman standing at a podium. It was clear the group of Starfleet personnel sitting at the very front of the audience were admirals.

There were a few cracks and pops of sound and some people talking and quickly being shushed. The professor stared at the screen in confusion, wondering just what was being shown. The question was promptly answered when the screen behind the woman displayed her first slide. Without any ado, she launched into discussing a plan to terraform a planet. It soon became clear that a large number of people in the audience were important planetary figures.

The professor spent the entire film gawking, wondering what possible relevance this video could have for Kirk's class. There were two other presentations shown on the video, all clearly from different times. When it was all said and done, there were only ten minutes left for discussion. Immediately the class launched into arguments about the strong points and the weaknesses of their pitches. One student lamented the lack of explosions.

The professor left more confused about Kirk's class than he was going in. And soon the entire school knew Jim was up to something again…though just what that something was they were left to speculate.

They weren't the only one's to be surprised as McCoy ran into Spock heading back at the end of the day. With some hesitation, he led the professor back to the dorm room. Jim, who had over the course of the day managed to end up shirtless _and_ more importantly sicker, nearly rolled off the bed trying to get into a standing position and promptly falling because of the blankets tangled around his feet anyway.

McCoy sighed, helping him back into bed as Spock laughed at him with his eyebrows.

"H- *hack* How did the class go?" Jim asked when McCoy got him back settled and promptly ignored them to do his own things.

"It was sufficient." Spock cocked his head to the side, considering something. "I believe the staff is under the impression that you are attempting to perform some manner of prank, however."

Jim paused, a small grin creeping up on his face. "I can work with that."

McCoy groaned, shooting him a look. "Jim, have you ever heard of a phrase called trolling?"

Jim gave him an innocent look. "Who? Me? I'm not doing anything wrong. _But_ I think this may just be the opportunity we've been looking for to change this school."

Spock raised both eyebrows at him. "I do not suspect this is something that would be approved of. However, you may be correct."

"Now…" Jim started, only to be promptly pushed down into his pillow by McCoy.

"No." He warned, wagging a finger at him. "Not now. Now you sleep. Later you can plot to make everyone's lives a living hell."

Jim groaned, giving Spock a long suffering look. "I doubt I'm getting out of here for another day at least…Any clue what they think I'm up to?"

"No. Discussions amongst the professors were primarily focused on the unusual enthusiasm of your students and the seeming irrelevance of the video you had shown in class. Some have postulated that you left those instructions _specifically_ so as not to reveal what you are currently doing with your class." Spock's eyes were dancing with amusement.

"Okay. If you stay in here he's going to keep talking and stay up even longer." McCoy snarled, pointing at the door. "Out. Let him rest."

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "We are currently engaging in discussion. As he is resting, this should be no problem."

"I'm the doctor. I'm telling you he needs to be left alone. _I_ know Jim and I _know_ he will get worked up if you keep him on this topic." McCoy narrowed his eyes at him.

Spock stared blankly at him a moment in clear defiance before turning to Jim. "It is unlikely we will be able to hold any conversation with him present, as he has seen fit to interrupt us. Perhaps we can continue tomorrow."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here you point-eared menace."

Jim chuckled, though it broke into a cough half way through. "Oh yeah. I can see it now. We're going to be bestest-best friends. All three of us. Peas in a pod. Amigos por vida. The three musketeers. Bones would be Athos and I'd be Porthos and Spock can be Aramis…wait…that's wrong…I should be Aramis…But…then Bones is Porthos? No…That's not right. Actually…hm…Because that would fit Spock…"

"He's rambling." Spock observed, glancing at McCoy.

"He does that." He agreed, shaking his head. "Better leave now before he starts getting verbose."

… .. . .. …

"Oh thank god!" Uhura declared as Jim entered the class room. "Don't ever leave us with a substitute again."

Jim chuckled weakly, looking even paler than he should in the black uniform. "Sorry. I'll do my best not to get sick again. Was the video any help?"

He spent the next three minutes listening to complaints about the professor and how he said nothing helpful about the video. When Jim got them to quiet down, he sat down on his desk and started a useful discussion on what he had hoped for them to get from the movie.

"Get into your groups." Jim declared. "Now that you've seen a couple of successful presentations on the topic, and one horribly unsuccessful one, you can peer grade each other's work. Remember, teams, work _with_ the command structure, not against it. Giotto, that means you. You're your group captain, act like it."

The class laughed, and did as was ordered of them.

"Don't forget I want _all_ of you in on this!" Jim reminded, glancing down at his PADD. "No participation means no grade. I was nice enough not to make you do these on your own, so don't make me regret it."

Jim waved Spock down from the back row when everyone was starting their work. He was well aware that Spock was eyeing his pallor and finding it wanting. He hopped off the desk and slipped into the seat behind it, waving Spock over further.

"Jim?"

"Shh." Jim grinned, gesturing to the PADD. "What do you think? For the final, of course."

Spock winged up an eyebrow at what he was looking at. "That is most certainly not going to be approved."

"Isn't it perfect?"

"It is an act of rebellion." Spock paused, giving it consideration. "In light of current matters, however, it may be a necessary one. Will you need assistance?"

Jim beamed at him. "No. I can handle this part on my own. Just make sure _you_ let that little detail…slip…in conversation with Pike while some other professors are around. Maybe even make it sound like I asked you or you're trying to keep me _out_ of trouble."

"I will not forget to do so, Jim."

"Good. Good." Jim set down the PADD. "This is all coming together so fast. I guess…I guess I'm lucky something got through to the students. I couldn't pull this off if they weren't willing to work like this."

"I think you will find, Jim, that what 'got through' to your fellow cadets was your enthusiasm and maturity." Spock told him honestly. "When you stopped trying to punish them for underestimating you at first, they were allowed to see the passion you hold. When you stop trying to a point where you are struggling against yourself, you are quite the leader."

Jim flushed considerably, immediately diverting his attention to the PADD. "Uh…Thanks. I need to…uh…start grading the essays. This'll be one of the last, you know? Soon it'll be no more reading so they can focus entirely on the project. So…yeah. I should get that done."

Spock frowned ever so slightly at him though. The flush just acted to highlight his grey, paled skin and the red eyes. Looking closer, he could see the deep set purple under his eyes indicating that he had not gotten much sleep recently, in spite of all the resting he had been doing from being sick. It was a strain to hear over the sound of the students discussing their projects, but Jim was panting ever so slightly. Spock was sure of it, because of the previously unnoticed jagged rise and fall of Jim's chest and shoulders.

"Stand." He ordered.

Jim glanced up at him in confusion, furrowing his brow. "What?"

"Stand, Jim."

There was the slightest flash of alarm in his eyes, but Jim complied. Spock eyed the hand he kept on the desk, noting the way the edge of his hand paled from the pressure he was exerting on the desk. Jim continued to give him an odd look as Spock's eyes roved over him, taking note of every sign of fatigue and weakness. A few students had tapered off their conversations, interested in what was happening up front.

Everyone went silence when Jim's knees buckled and Spock caught his bicep to keep him from falling. "You are still unwell."

Jim gritted his teeth, trying to push him off so he could sit back down and pretend he was fine. "I'm on light duty. I'm fine."

"Did you attend your first class in this condition?"

Jim glanced down guiltily. "Well…no, but I'm not teaching that class."

"James Kirk you get to the medical building right now." Rand demanded of him.

"Hey. You can't order me around. You're a student."

"We can escort you if you're going to put up a fight." Finnegan announced. "But I doubt it'd be worth much. You look like shit."

"Your reassurances are great." Jim sneered, still tugging uselessly at his arm.

"Jim-"

"Go the hell away Lester." Jim warned.

"Kirk. Stop being a stubborn ass. We can actually handle a day to ourselves. All we're doing is group work." Uhura reminded him. "Let Commander Spock take you to the infirmary."

"But-"

"Kirk!" Jim winced, pretty sure somehow Gaila and _Chekov_ were the loudest voices in the room there, which was somewhat baffling.

Spock noticed the way Jim slumped was not actually in defeat, but rather exhaustion and promptly led him out of the room to a chorus of cheers. McCoy was…less than thrilled. Apparently Jim had snuck out of their room to attend class and planned on being back before McCoy found out about it. He glared half-heartedly at Spock for getting him found out.

Still, he ended up tranquilized and asleep in a bio bed with a pretty blond nurse fussing over him. McCoy led Spock aside, looking tired and a little disappointed.

"He's worrying himself to death over this class of his. He won't admit it, but ever since people actually started looking to him for answers, he's been paranoid he won't have them." McCoy sighed. "I know he won't feel confident until he's sure he can do it…he did this his first semester too. He talks a tough game, and usually he can back it up, but this…_Starfleet_ means so much to him."

"I am doing everything in my capabilities to ease his burden." Spock told him.

"I know. And I can't ask you for anything more." He laughed humorously. "I can only imagine his first captaincy. Oh, sure, he'll do great…but there _will_ be that stupid moment of doubt that makes him sick for a week before he gets over it."

"You seem quite familiar with Jim's moods."

"I've been with him long enough." McCoy grinned. "No, I was going to say something. What I want from you is simple. _Distract_ him. Get him so involved in this zany scheme of his, whatever it is, that he doesn't have _time_ to worry about if he's doing a good job or not. The pressure and the sheer absurdity of it all usually does him good."

"I am beginning to formulate a hypothesis about why Jim has behaved in such a troubling and problematic manner during his years at the academy." Spock must have worked to make his usual flat delivery seem even more deadpan. "Idle minds will oft turn to destruction."

McCoy snorted out a laugh. "Jim's not so much destructive as humorously on a different track then everyone else. Or was gelatin destructive?"

"I believe the current citation for his most destructive prank was candy coating every statue in the Academy."

McCoy snorted. "Oh come on. That came off without damaging the statues."

Spock gave him an unimpressed look. It seemed they had something to commiserate over, finally, however, when the nurse loudly declared the Jim was attempting to escape in his sleep. Somewhat exasperated, they both returned to his bedside to help.

… .. . .. …

"Oh hell, Jim. Tell me that's not what I think it is."

"It's not what you think it is."

"The hell it isn't!" McCoy came to lean on Jim's desk, staring at his work. "Pike is going to kill you."

"Only if Spock can convince him to burst in on my final _with_ an audience." Jim grinned evilly. "Timing is important. We need most of them to get there at the same time."

"You're out of your mind. You do realize you just implied that you _want_ Pike to kill you, right?"

"Don't worry so much Bones. I guarantee this is going to work."

"And just how are you supposed to do that?"

"Because I've got a brilliant set of students, a perfect partner in crime, who, I may add has no record so no one will suspect him of helping in something like this, and I know Pike. This'll be too good to resist. And there's no way he's going to let me make him look bad, so he'll have to stand behind me."

"That's extortion, Jim. You could get him in serious trouble if he doesn't side with you, and you could still get him in trouble if he does. That doesn't seem wrong to you?"

"Bones, I wouldn't do this if I thought Pike would get in trouble. As for forcing his hand, well, that's just politics." Jim shooed him from the desk. "Now scram, before I stab my finger again."

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**Bwahahahahaha. There should only be one or two chapters left, depending on how I space them and if I feel like it needs a real wrap up chapter or not.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I am so, so sorry about the lack of update. My cat got in an accident and I haven't had the time to finish the chapter until now. Sorry.**

**As always, I don't own Star Trek.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

Jim had _never_ heard his students so quiet. It was priceless. The gawked as he headed to the front desk, politely ignoring the stares. You would think, by their reaction, they had forgotten that Jim was a student, like them.

"You're wearing the red uniform." Gaila finally pointed out when no one else saw fit to speak up.

"I made a bit of a mess of my black one." Jim admitted with a shrug. "Just a minor issue. Don't let it distract you. I won't wear it during the final."

"Speaking of." Uhura jumped immediately to topic, not wanting to dwell longer on the awkward reminder his red uniform provided. "You said you would provide us with a sign-up list for our presentation order. Where is it?"

Jim rolled his eyes, smiling. "I was just about to get to that. Seeing as I received so many emails from you all, requesting certain spots, specifically the first or last, and got twice as many questions about when the sign up sheet would be available, we aren't doing it. Instead, I'm going to randomize the presentations. I will send an email out tomorrow with the order."

There was a collective groan of disappointment from the students. Jim chuckled, glancing at Spock, who was ignoring him in favor of his PADD.

"Now." Jim's smile broadened. "I'm going to be leaving you today under Spock's expert care. You get to practice giving presentations. _Don't_ you dare start complaining that they aren't done. That's the point. Spock can help you out a little without me ending up biased. I've got a few errands to run to get the final squared away anyway."

Begrudgingly, because there wasn't much else they could say to that, they murmured out goodbyes. He'd already shot down their main complaint. Spock allowed no further adieu or fussing, immediately taking over the class and rather unceremoniously booting Jim from the room.

… .. . .. …

"Come on." Jim pleaded with the stark brunette sitting behind her desk. "I already checked. No one's going to be using it. It won't hurt anyone."

"You aren't supposed to be using it either, Mr. Kirk." She replied, not looking up from her paperwork.

"Come on, Number One." Jim whined, dropping to his knees in front of her desk to better angle his puppy-dog eyes where she couldn't miss them. "I'm begging you. Not for me. Honestly. This is for my students. They need this. You don't even have to tell anyone."

She narrowed her eyes, glancing up at him. "I will not be beguiled by your 'charms' Mr. Kirk."

"Did you just use air quotes on me?" Jim frowned. "Never mind. Please Eur-"

"James T. Kirk are you in here harassing the Lieutenant Colonel?" Pike entered the office, earning a few amused looks from the other office staff.

"I'm not harassing anyone." Jim sounded aghast.

"I highly doubt that." Pike glanced at the woman skeptically. "What exactly did you need Jim?"

"Nothing." Jim sounded a bit bitter, folding his arms over his chest.

"Here." She slipped a small data chip into his hand. "Behave."

Jim's eyes lit up considerably, bright blue practically fluorescing. "Thank you. So much. You're the best, you know that? Genuinely number one."

"Mmhm." She returned to her work.

Kirk flew out the door, racing off to do other things and leaving Pike staring after him in mild amusement. "And just what was that about?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you, Captain." She held a hint of amusement which clearly indicated she would be telling him.

… .. . .. …

"At least tell me." McCoy threw a book at Jim, one he wasn't currently studying for his final from.

Jim shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I know how this works. I tell you, and it all goes wrong. Because then it wouldn't be as interesting."

"This isn't a holovid kid." McCoy snorted, not looking up from his book. "Who am I going to tell, hu?"

"That's just it! Someone will walk past and hear or you'll end up _having_ to tell someone, maybe that nurse you won't let me meet. Something will happen and the whole thing will get out." Jim spun around to look at him. "How do I look?"

Bones looked up and frowned, furrowing his brow in the same move. "Honestly? Like you're going on a date."

Jim flushed, removing the tie immediately. "That is not what is happening."

"Could have fooled me."

"We're talking about our plans for the final."

"Over dinner." McCoy smirked, watching as Jim returned to a mirror to once again tousle his hair. "Which, by the way, is a much better way to be overheard then telling me in our dorm room."

"Trust me, we'll be careful. When have you ever known me not to take precautions?"

McCoy shook his head, deciding not to take the bait, before sighing emphatically. "For god's sake Jim, leave your hair alone. You look fine. If you haven't scared him off now, a bad hair day won't do it. Not that I can't say excessive primping might not."

Jim threw a hair brush at him.

"Look, you're getting nervous over dinner with him. What's gotten into you?"

"What if he decides he doesn't want to help anymore? What if I upset him and he tells Pike?" Jim turned around, big blue eyes looking imploringly at his best friend. "What if something goes wrong?"

"You still sound like a teenage girl." McCoy informed him. "At least I'll know what to do when Joanna hits that age."

"Screw you Bones." Jim stuck his tongue out at him, the picture of maturity.

"We've been over this Jim. I'm straight. Thought you were too."

"I'm done listening to you." Jim informed him. "Should I wear cologne?"

McCoy looked up at that, giving him a blank stare. "What happened to not listening to me?"

"Bones!" Jim whined. "I'm seriously trying to make the right impression here."

"He offered to help you when you were drunk and angry on a barstool. If he dumps you now he doesn't deserve you honey. You should get to be as classy as you want."

"Stop treating me like I'm a girl!"

"Stop whining like one."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Should I perhaps return at another time?" Spock asked from their doorway, one eyebrow raised at them.

Jim was standing over McCoy, attempting to strangle him around the book he was using as a shield. They both stared at him for a moment, flabbergasted that he had apparently been standing outside long enough without a response that he overrode the door code. Jim promptly straightened himself out, glaring quickly and efficiently at Bones while grabbing a jacket.

"No. I'm sorry. We can go."

"Sharp look." McCoy sarcastically noted as Spock was wearing all black, though not his uniform. "Have him back before one."

"Oh my god Bones." Jim pushed Spock out the door before McCoy could embarrass him further. "I am so shunning you when I get back."

The door shut to the sound of McCoy laughing. Jim shook his head, now standing in the hall. After a moment, he realized where he was and glanced up embarrassedly at Spock, who was standing patiently at a parade rest. Jim blushed, so much for a good impression on the night.

"Uh…" Jim coughed, scuffing his shoe on the ground. "So. Yeah. We should…uh…probably get going."

"Very well." Spock dipped his head in acquiescence and started down the hall towards the exit.

Jim lagged a moment, but caught up quickly. "So I have no idea where we're going."

"I have no doubt you will find the place acceptable."

… .. . .. …

Jim tried not to squirm in the ridiculously stiff seat, opting to pluck at the table cloth instead. When Spock had told him it was a formal place…well, he hadn't been expecting this. Now he wished he still had the tie. They took his coat at the door. At the door, damn it. It didn't get fancier than that. He'd spent a good three minutes just gawking at the single page, heavy paper menu before setting it down and asking Spock to order for him. He'd never even heard of most of the dishes they were offering. _And_, to make it worse, there were no prices next to anything on the menu. He was a bit out of his depths.

Spock didn't seem to notice.

"How did you even find this place?" Jim whispered, afraid of talking too loudly in the somewhat quiet environment.

"Captain Pike recommended this restaurant to me sometime ago. I had yet to find cause to eat here, though." Spock seemed to have no such issue.

"Oh. Glad to be of service then." Jim fiddled with the silverware in front of him.

"You are nervous."

Jim scowled at the table. "No. Not really…yes, but not about this." Spock raised an eyebrow at him, so he knew he had to elaborate. "Is what I'm doing right? I mean, not just as a protest for the school, but…personally? I've invested a lot in Starfleet. It actually means something to me, maybe for the first time in my life. I don't want to jeopardize that…but…but I can't leave well enough alone. If I don't do this…if I don't have the courage to do something that needs to be done, even if there are negative consequences for me…can I ever be a captain?"

"I believe you already know the answer to your questions." Spock informed him politely. "I can not simply tell you the right answer, it is a decision you must come to on your own. I will tell you, however, that I would not be assisting you if I did not believe it worth every moment. You are brave, intelligent, dedicated, and loyal Jim. I believe you will make an exceptional captain."

Jim stared at him, not sure what to say. No one had actually said something like that to him before. He was fortunately saved from having to respond or floundering awkwardly by the waiter arriving. He used that opportunity to divert from the increasingly volatile line of conversation and start the topic about how well their plans were going.

Jim supposed they had been talking for some time, as somehow there dinners were eaten and they'd finished coffee afterwards. Spock paid, refusing to let Jim even consider helping, and they were on their way back. It was pleasantly cold out.

"We're really doing this, aren't we?" Jim asked in awe, staring up at the stars.

"I do not understand your disbelief, Jim. You had already conceived of this plan and were putting it into action before I convinced you to accept my assistance."

Jim snorted at the deliberate way he phrased that. "You're going to be my first officer some day. I've just decided. I won't take anyone else."

"Is that so?" Spock raised an eyebrow, carefully not looking at him lest he betray his amusement.

"Yes. I need someone smart and grounded like you to keep me in check. I mean, I'll have Bones for the blind emotion for when I forget that, but I need you for your logic." Jim grinned. "That means you have to keep teaching until I get my captaincy."

Now he did look at him. "I see."

"No, really." Jim elbowed him. "If anyone else gets you then they'll never give you up. You're too perfect. And I'm not going to let anyone else take the first captaincy over you. You're mine, you hear me. You and McCoy and maybe Uhura too."

"Fascinating." Spock returned his attention to where he was going. "It would appear that you have spent some time in deciding your hypothetical future crew."

"Well duh." He rolled his eyes. "I deserve no less than the best. That's while I'll captain the Enterprise."

"I believe the colloquial term for your plans is 'delusions of grandeur' Jim."

"Oh you are a very funny Vulcan Mr. Spock." Jim deadpanned.

"We are at your dorm, Mr. Kirk." Spock brought him back to reality, making him realize they were, in fact, standing in front of the door to his dorm.

"Huh. Will you look at that?" Jim smirked. "Well, I'm glad we managed to get everything hashed out."

"Goodnight Jim."

"'Night Spock." Jim watched him until he disappeared around the corner before opening the door to his dorm.

McCoy glanced up in surprise from his book before looking at the clock on his desk and swearing profusely. Jim furrowed his brow.

"What?"

"12:59." McCoy growled. "Damn point-eared hobgoblin."

Jim laughed. "Get some sleep."

… .. . .. …

"Alright class." Jim looked them over, heart thundering in his chest. "This is your last class before the final. I've got a quick little exit quiz for you all. Stop groaning, it isn't graded like a normal quiz. You get full points as long as you turn it in. This is just for me to assess if you actually learned anything. So put your PADDs and communicators away and remove everything from your desks."

He passed out the quiz when they complied and returned to his desk. They were focused intensely on the paper in front of them, genuinely interested in their performance. Jim couldn't help but smile, reminiscing on just how far they had come since the first day of the semester. And him, sitting there in his red student uniform and looking like a teacher anyway.

"Ve are net to be leawing vhen ve are done, da?" Chekov implored, always the first done.

"Uh, yeah. Class! Please stay when you've finished." Jim announced and barely got a glance of acknowledgment for his effort.

He smiled warmly at his class, hoping on his desk when he had finished collecting the papers. "Hello class. My name is James T. Kirk, and I'm your teacher for this semester."

They laughed at him, exactly the reaction he was hoping for. With a sad sort of smile, he leaned forward on his knees, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

"We've had a hell of a semester. Somehow, all but three of you put up with me." Jim acknowledged the chuckles with a little laugh of his own. "It may have been bumpy, here and there, but we really got through. Just scanning through these tests, I can tell that most of you have gotten a full and useful understanding of the material. I really hope part of that can be attributed to me. We all came into this with preconceived notions. I've some idea of what you guys thought about me…and I know what I though of you was none too flattering."

Jim coughed roughly, not looking away from them though he really wanted to. "You taught me that I was wrong. You've done more than I ever imagined you would do and in the end this class was nothing like I had imagined it. That's a good thing…hell, I even surprised myself. This…right here, _not_ what I thought I was going to be like. I hope that you all were pleasantly surprised too. I hope I outdid any expectations you ever had for me, I know I outdid my own expectations for myself."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is…I _like_ the person I've become, that you guys helped make me be." Jim blushed a little, wetting his lips in distraction. "So…Thank you."

"Thank _you_, Kirk." Uhura responded, voice a little wet. "For everything."

"Thanks." Gaila agreed.

"Da, ve are grateful to hawe such vonderful teacher."

"You're not bad Kirk." Giotto agreed grudgingly. "So…you know…Thanks. Really."

Soon he was bombarded with thanks. Jim bowed his head, keeping his hands balled against his desk, lest he be tempted to reach up and wipe away the tears trying to form in his eyes and inadvertently reveal they existed at all. There was an enthusiastic cheer and rather suddenly the room was filled with applause. Jim snapped his head up in surprise to see the room had risen to their feet for him.

"You're embarrassing me." Jim warned, nearly drown out by their enthusiastic response.

… .. . .. …

"You realize I'm going to see you when you come out of the bathroom, right?" McCoy called through the door, stuffing another book in his bag, just incase he needed it.

"Yeah, yeah, but it'd ruin the presentation." Jim's muffled voice responded. "You can stay for the entire final, right?"

"Yeah. I've got one right after myself, but I wouldn't miss this." McCoy straightened up, ensuring he had everything he needed.

The bathroom door cracked open and he whipped his head around to look at Jim. He was standing at attention in his modified uniform. The black pants were largely unaltered, mostly changed by the two red stripes running down the outside of each pant leg. The jacket was mostly red, with black for trim and the occasional highlight. The end effect was quite striking, lending an imposing, militaristic look the uniforms usually lacked. McCoy suspected that had something to do with Jim's love of the old earth military dress uniforms. Whatever the cause, it looked good.

"Well?" Jim scowled. "Don't just stare, what do you think?"

"I think you should have shown me that sooner." McCoy snorted.

"What! Is something wrong? I've got a little time, I can fix it if-"

"Relax Jim." He grinned. "I'm only messing with you. Jeez. I'm a doctor not a fashion designer. It looks fine to me, but what would I know?"

Jim sighed in relief, dropping his shoulders. "You're a jerk. Come on. Let's sneak you in to my final."

"Have you shown that to your pet Vulcan?"

"No. Wait my what?" Jim gave him a highly disturbed look. "Are you jealous that he's going to have a higher position on my ship then you?"

"You don't have a ship Jim and I'm not going to be your HMO."

… .. . .. …

Spock had met them outside the procured lecture hall, checking something on his PAAD. No comment was made towards his outfit.

"All of the students remember we move the final in here, right?" Jim wrung his hands while Spock prepped the projector. "Because I didn't go beg and plead with an office lady just for her to tell Pike exactly where this was going to be only for my students to show up late."

"They will be here Jim."

"They're here now." McCoy gestured to the back entrance, where Jim's students were filling in, chatting with themselves.

"Hey!" Jim called enthusiastically to them. "Glad you all got here. If any of you feel nauseous or pass out while presenting, I've got a doctor here to tend to you."

There were a few curious laughs before it was indeed confirmed that McCoy was a doctor, at which point they all started squirming. Jim instructed them to shut up and sit down as politely as he could and McCoy took a seat over by where Jim and Spock would stay during the presentations.

"I'm not going to insult you and ask if you're ready or not, or if you have everything. That's your problem. We should be ready to go in just a minute." Jim told them. "Remember, no talking, playing with your PADDs, nothing like that. Be respectful. Especially when you're presenting. This is a serious final, not some joke."

"Nice uniform." Gaila called. "Looks _really_ good."

"Thanks." Jim deadpanned. "Stop interrupting though."

"That isn't regulation, is it?" Uhura asked.

"That is my problem." Jim growled. "Now please, quite for a bit. I was trying to say something important. I know none of you were all that enthusiastic about the conditions of this presentation, but I can guarantee you will be glad for it anyway. I'd like the first group to get their stuff together. You should be ready to go in just thirty seconds."

The doors burst open with several admirals, various teachers, and officials flooding in. Pike was among the forefront. Jim barely glanced up at them. "Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would please quietly take a seat, presentations will begin. Fill free to take notes on your PADDS, quietly. Any questions you have can be asked at the end of each presentation. Thank you for taking time out of your schedules to help with this."

Stunned, and more than a little curious, the officials did as he told them, filling in the seats. Pike took note not only of Jim's change of attire, but also that none of his students were surprised to see them, though clearly not expecting quite the turnout. Just how much Jim had told them to expect, he could never know, but based on his little speech it would seem he'd indicated to his students that they had agreed to sit in on it. That was definitely not what they had planned when they stormed in. He followed Jim and Spock back to their seats with his eyes. Spock had clearly assisted him, had helped to set them up. He just hoped it was worth it, what ever the hell this was.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**I decided to do two chapters. The next one will conclude the final and handle the aftermath. Barring anything catastrophic, I should be able to have it out in about a week.**

**To stem the few worried questions I'm going to get about my cat, the rest of this end note will be about that incident. You can stop reading if you aren't interested, I won't be saying anything important.**

**I had gotten a cat when I first move for my grad school because my flat mate is allergic to dogs and I like all animals. Recently, he let her outside thinking this a good idea for some inexplicable reason. She was struck by a car. The vets say she is going to be alright, but she is trying to learn to walk in a cast and it has been a challenge dealing with her. All of my free time recently has been devoted to helping with her, making my flat mate feel terrible, or trying not to feel too bad myself that I wasn't there to stop him from being an idiot. So that's why the chapter took so long to get up. Fortunately, we've settled into something of a routine now so things should mostly be back to normal.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I don't own Star Trek. Thanks to everyone who's been reading. This _is_ the last chapter.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

Uhura's group went first. Jim hadn't planned that, but he was honestly so grateful that she would start things off with a bang. If anyone was reliable for making him look good and making this go off without a hitch, it was going to be the first group, and her. They looked good standing there, and Jim tried not to smile. This was really happening.

Uhura touched the PADD in her hands lightly and the lights dimmed dramatically. A deep rumble sounded through the speakers and a bright light flare crossed the screen, revealing the team names and group number as well as the very prominent number designation of a planet. Her introduction of her group was succinct and she made no hesitation in the face of the large audience.

"Today we will detail our proposed plan for the terraforming and colonization of planet designation Tr76-I4N, referenced from here on out as Trillian." She smiled as a round of chuckles went through her fellow students.

The officials and teachers Pike had brought in, however, were speechless. They could barely keep their jaws up, as the presentation waned on. Jim could barely keep his jaw up, and he had known this was coming. He was relieved to find it perfectly detailed. She and her group launched into a perfect explanation of how the planet could be made hospitable. The timeline would undoubtedly make Spock proud with its preciseness. If he didn't have such utter faith in Spock's integrity, he'd have accused him of helping.

To Uhura's eternal credit, she even reined her group in and kept them just barely within the time limit. The lights came back up, and she offered everyone a chance to ask questions. Jim and Spock immediately launched in, picking apart little details, because there were no glaring weakness that needed addressed. Even McCoy offered a few good questions, making Jim incredibly grateful for having brought him. The defining moment, however, came when she actually bit her lip, looking nervously at the many teachers who had nothing to say.

"Have you considered the ramifications of using Starfleet ships to handle basic deliveries? Don't you think there could be a better option?" Pike finally asked, breaking the silence.

As the group launched into answering, Jim glanced back for the first time. He met Pike's eyes, and they held that for a moment, sizing up each other's reactions. Pike finally broke his gaze to devote his full attention to the answer he was receiving. When Jim returned to facing the group, he had a shit eating grin in place. That was it. That was his win right there. They didn't realize it, yet, but there was no possible chance for it to go wrong. That was all there was too it. He had won.

The next group came and went, and the one after them as well. With each presentation, more teachers and officials opened up, digging at the students' knowledge and not coming up with many holes. The presentations overall, for the class, varied very little in quality, all being exceptionally well thought out. The presentations themselves, however, were so fantastically different. There wasn't a moment of dullness. By the end of the presentations, people were on the edges of their seats, muttering amongst each other about what they had just witnessed.

Jim's favorite was hard to pick, but he definitely had a soft spot for Giotto's, as it included a section on disaster scenarios and responses.

He brought the lights back up as he headed to the front of the class. "Thank you everyone, both our presenters and our audience. Give yourselves and everyone else a big round of applause."

Even if it was his win, he was a bit surprised that no one hesitated. They'd all gotten so into it as to initially forget that they weren't here on his request. He waited a minute before trying to calm them down. When they didn't, he flashed the lights on and off until they shut up.

"Alright." Jim smiled. "To my students, thank you for your presentations. I was impressed by what I saw today. I'm fairly certain you'll be pleased with your grades. I'll have them to you by the end of the week. As for my other decision, that may take a little bit longer. It won't be easy to decide, thanks to all the wonderful things I've seen today. You're dismissed for now. Good luck with the rest of your finals. Ladies and gentlemen of the audience, if you would please stay a moment longer?"

His class filed out, speaking excitedly and casting furtive glances back at him. He smiled the whole time, waving them goodbye, until the door shut behind the last student.

Immediately, Jim's innocent, pleased look dissipated and he turned a hard, commanding look on his crowd. "I'd thank you all for attending, but I don't think that is what you had in mind when you came in. I hope you'll forgive me for the small act of duplicity. My students weren't in on this little…shenanigan. Now, I certainly hope, after those presentations, you don't think I've been wasting your time today."

"What is this, Kirk?" Pike asked.

"This is a demonstration." Jim smiled at the exasperated look on his face. "You had me take this position, because you thought I would be a good teacher. I think it's safe to say I've succeeded at that. Mind you, I've had to take a few creative routs in order to get what I needed from everyone, but now that we're here, I think you'll agree everything was absolutely necessary."

Pike shook his head, sending quite the look at Spock before standing. "I'm certainly glad I gave you the leeway I did." The strain in his voice was clear to Jim, a subtle hint about how they would be having words later. "You exceeded my expectations. I'll admit though, I didn't see this coming. Do you mind telling me what you were thinking?"

"Well…" Jim grinned, rubbing his hands together.

… .. . .. …

"Oh My God I love you."

Jim blinked, pinched himself, glanced back up at Uhura, and frowned. "I thought I was the prankster."

"Shut up." She ordered, plopping down across from him and waving at the barista to bring her a coffee. "I still hate you. But right now I could kiss you."

"I could work with that." Jim muttered in contemplation. "It'd be a first for me, I'd admit…"

"Kirk."

"Okay, fine, not really."

"Kirk!"

"Yes, Uhura?"

"Why did you pick my group's presentation?"

Jim shrugged, looking mildly apathetic as he stirred his coffee. "You guys were the best. Honestly. I thought it was the most likely to work and the one with the most reasonable outlook."

She smiled. "You didn't. There's no way you actually thought that. I saw how much you loved it when Giotto's group got to the point of security and disaster preparation in their presentation. You loved that."

"I did, which is why I made a note that your group might like to talk to his about a few alterations to your presentation before the big day. Well, okay, I made a few notes, but it's up to you if you want to follow them or not. I just think that Giotto's little blurb will make it stand out and be unique. It doesn't necessarily make their entire presentation better, alright?"

"You _almost_ sounded competent there." She teased. "Thank you, though, for this opportunity. I'll admit I had never even thought of proposing an actual terraforming plan to the Federation. I had never thought it would be relevant to my career, but having the plan out there _is_ something I can put on my resume. Thank you, Kirk."

"Careful, you almost sound like you think I'm competent."

"Don't push your luck."

Jim smiled, shaking his head and thoroughly enjoying the banter. "For the record? What really sealed the deal was your communications plan. Something like that can avert disaster entirely. That kind of thinking, that's what Starfleet needs. People like you are proactive, not reactive, and I like that."

She blushed, glancing down at her coffee. "Thank you, Kirk."

"Please, call me Jim. And tell me your first name while you're at it." He leaned forward on the table, sultry grin in place.

She furrowed her brow at him. "My name was on your class registry, you already know it."

"Is that so? Hm. I must have missed it. Tell me anyway."

"Heh." Her half laugh was accompanied by a fake smile as she stood. "I have work to do on our presentation. Just because it aced your class doesn't mean it's anywhere up to par for being officially submitted to the Federation for genuine consideration."

Jim smiled as she started for the door. "Knock'em dead Uhura."

She ducked her head as she headed out the door, a big smile on her face, as exasperated as it was. Jim stared down at his black coffee for a moment, considering his next move. There was someone he needed to talk to.

… .. . .. …

"Jim." Spock answered his door with a modicum of surprise, directed mostly at the fact that Jim had apparently found his rooms even though he hadn't been told them. "Come in."

Jim grinned. "Hey. Thanks. I wanted to talk to you about how the last of our plans were shaping up."

Spock stood at a parade rest to his side, one eyebrow raised microscopically. "You have successfully taught the required curriculum to your students. You advanced several of their careers by encouraging sponsorship of their terraforming plans and the subsequent submission there of to the Federation for consideration. You enacted a change, through the suggestion by several respected members of faculty, which allowed student teachers to have teaching advisors and a unique uniform. You have fundamentally altered the curriculum for terraforming classes of that level as well as starting a tradition of student competition for the chance to present a terraforming plan to the Federation officials. Finally, you have proven to the staff, students, and yourself that you are a capable, competent, and indeed excellent teacher."

Jim smiled at that last part, ears turning red. "Yeah, well, I couldn't have done any of it without you. You know that, right?"

"I will refrain from differing with you on the matter as it is a futile gesture."

Jim shook his head. "I have to go see Pike again tomorrow. He's going to want to lecture me about this whole thing in more detail, I'm sure. Do you want me to tell him just how involved you were?"

"I have already done so, though I am grateful for your concern." Spock noticed the surprised look on his face. "You forget that I have a long professional history with Captain Pike and felt no need to hide my assistance as I agreed with everything you have done."

Jim scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Yeah, well, thank you. Really. I can't say it enough."

"I believe you already have, Jim."

"So what did you say to him, anyway, that managed to get him to bring so many people along?" Jim grinned. "He seemed really interested in being in that room with as many witnesses as possible."

Spock's ears darkened a shade. "I believe it was the…emphasis with which I spoke that encouraged his actions. He has since indicated that I have lead him to believe that my interest in you is more than professional."

"Are you embarrassed to be my friend?" Jim asked teasingly, a sly look on his face. "You are my friend, right?"

Spock lifted both eyebrows at that question. "Undoubtedly, Jim."

"Good." Jim didn't even try to fight the smile, though his cheeks were beginning to hurt from the constant action. "You, me, and Bones are going for coffee tomorrow after my meeting with Pike. Just a little private celebration for being able to make the changes we did. Consider it an order if I have to in order to get you to spend time with Bones."

"Very well. However I do not drink coffee."

"So order a tea." Jim narrowed his eyes at him. "Stop being intentionally difficult."

"Yes, Jim." Jim could swear he was smiling under there.

"You're doing the emotion thing again." Jim said teasingly, well aware he was crossing a line he hadn't toed in quite a while.

"There is no need to be insulting." Spock told him, but with amusement.

"Just you wait you sneaky little Vulcan." Jim warned. "I'll catch you being funny one of these times in front of other people and then you'll be busted. I'll let everyone in on this big secret that you're actually a witty and clever man with biting comebacks."

"I am unsure as to what you are referring, Jim." Spock's lips twitched in and out of the smallest smirk. "I am in no way small."

Jim didn't quite manage to stop his laugh. "Evil, evil man. I have to go. I have a meeting with the uniform designers, who want to take a look at the one I planned out. Not sure why they actually need me there, I think this is just more punishment from Pike for not telling him. Last time we talked he started rambling about saving up all my pranks for the semester into one really big one."

"Very well Jim. I will see you tomorrow." Spock pointedly ignored the largely irrelevant information Jim spouted out after saying he had to go.

"Bye, Spock." Jim felt like, for once in his life, everything was going his way.

… .. . .. …

"Come in." Pike ordered, watching the way Jim was lurking around his door. "You're early."

"Wasn't a crime last time I checked." Jim plopped down, a plastic spork in his mouth.

"Take that out of your mouth when you're talking to me." He demanded, sighing when the mutilated thing was tossed on his desk.

"Wanna talk about sporks?"

"Actually, I want to talk about what you did." Pike noted the mild concern in his eyes. "You haven't pulled another prank, have you?"

Jim relaxed instantly. "No. I was just worried we were going to go over the _whole_ thing again. You've already chewed me out for pulling that stunt on you during the final. Twice. Once with illustrative slides. Which I'm not sure how you got on such short notice. But no pranks."

"Mmhm." Pike held his suspicions, but moved on. "What are your plans for next year? Will you teach again?"

"Actually," Jim grinned, scooting forward in his seat, "I plan to devote the majority of my time to figuring out that damn test."

"That…" Pike furrowed his brow. "You can't possibly mean the Kobayashi Maru."

"Exactly. I've already made an example of myself for the students." Jim snorted at that. "There's no reason not to prove to them that they can achieve good things if they work hard enough for it."

Pike frowned outright at him there. Something was distinctly not right, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Still, Jim _loved_ Starfleet. There was no way he was going to go straight from the best semester he had ever had at the academy to a complete and utter fall out. Honestly, Jim wasn't that bad…right?

"Will you be asking for Spock's help?" _To keep you out of trouble_, was the unsaid addition hanging off the end of that sentence.

Jim immediately caught some other undercurrent in that tone, but filed it away for later. "No. This is for students only. He can help me some other time, as my future first officer."

Pike fought down a smile. "Ambitious as ever."

They had a genuine moment of silence between them, fully acknowledging that that ambition had always gotten him exactly what he aimed for. He was shooting for the stars. His method just dragged them out of the sky sometimes to make them easier to get to. Carefully, Jim stood, understanding fully that the discussion was over. There was nothing left to talk about. Pike had already spent hours chewing him out for not telling him, for honestly not thinking he would be on his side, and for corrupting Spock in the process.

Most everything that needed to be said between them had been said, and there was nothing left to go over. Anything more would be redundant or a waste of time. Jim had almost made it to the door when Pike stopped him.

"Kirk!" He paused and found himself smiling when he turned around. "Jim…I'm proud of you."

Jim swallowed hard and nodded once. "Thank you."

His voice was trying to crack, and he quickly vacated the room. If either of them noticed little dabs of water welling up in the corners of Jim's eyes neither of them felt it needed commented on. Pike absently wiped at his own eyes, wondering how dust had gotten in his vents, because it was making his eyes sting.

Outside, Jim stared up at the sky, taking a deep breath as he watched the transports fly overhead. Any hypothetical tears were gone from his eyes as a genuine sense of relief and comfort flooded him. He closed his eyes, imagining for just a moment his own starship, whisking him away to far off galaxies and amazing adventures. Now, he could practically feel it. No more reaching out towards a dream, he was going to grasp reality and make it his.

First, he needed to go get coffee with his future CMO and XO.

Tomorrow, he'd start on his plan to beat the Kobayashi Maru and prove once again to the entire academy that nothing could stop James T. Kirk, trouble maker.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**A bit of a short chapter, but I felt that if I had tried to cram all of this into the last chapter it would have felt too rushed or made the chapter too long.**

**To stop the questions now, I won't do a sequel for this fic. It'd basically be a retelling of the movie, and I don't want to do that. Sorry if any of you were really looking forward to it. I suppose I _could_ make it even more AU and have it not follow the movie at all, but that would end up as a long spanning epic and I'm afraid I don't have time for one of those right now,**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this fic. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with it, especially those of you that reviewed. And thanks for the well wishes for my cat. Have a great time and have fun. I hope to hear from you around my other fics and I hope to produce more stuff you guys like in the future.**


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